WINTERHEART The Last Guardian Sequel
by Orin
Summary: Amy Rose has always been Sonic's biggest fan. But people change, and in an unexpected reunion with her, Sonic is forced to realize just how much his 'biggest' fan has matured. ON HOLD
1. Dreams End

Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She's mine. But the rest belong to Sega! Dagnabbit!   
  
  
  
Okay. ^__^ I'm baaack!!  
  
Knuckles; Oh... God......  
  
Sonic; *Nods*  
  
Orin; Hey!! You two should be happy to see me!  
  
Knuckles; *Deadpan* We're happy..... This is us being happy....  
  
Orin; O__o;  
  
Sonic; *Smirk*  
  
Orin; *Mumbling* Ungrateful wretches.... And after all I've done for you...  
  
Sonic; Uh-huh.... Yeah.... Torture, angst, pounding us until we're-  
  
Knuckles; -Hardly recognizable. By our fans, or anyone else for that matter.   
  
Sonic; Not to mention killing us off!  
  
Knuckles; Me, you mean...  
  
Sonic; That's what I meant.  
  
Knuckles; Right.  
  
Sonic; Yeah. And Orin, we're tired of it!  
  
Orin; You know you star in this next fic, right Sonic....?  
  
Sonic; O___o  
  
Knuckles; Sonic...? *Waves a hand over Sonic's dazed face*  
  
Sonic; Well.... Maybe not 'that' tired.....  
  
Knuckles; Hey!! Traitor!!!  
  
Orin; ^__^ So.... It's okay to go ahead then?  
  
Sonic; Sure!  
  
Knuckles; No!  
  
Here's me hoping this uploads properly.... I've been having Internet troubles lately. My fics won't seem to upload at all. I'd actually given up there for a while. But I'm thinking I'll give this once last try.... *Crosses her fingers*  
  
Latifah!! This fic is for you.   
*Bows*   
  
I'm a fan! Your fic is wonderful and I'm hooked....   
  
You rock!  
^__~  
  
  
  
WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Dreams End...  
  
  
  
******  
  
Kiss of shadows. Kiss of death. Shallow life. Take my breath.  
  
******  
  
It was snowing when he stepped outside into the dawning morning, flakes of white clinging to his eyelashes and his cheeks settling themselves on the combination of velvet fur and spines. He was tempted to stick out his tongue and capture some, a childish habit, he supposed.   
He heard footsteps ahead.  
  
Hurry....  
  
The snow swirled up, stronger for a moment and he shielded his face against the sudden torrent as the wind shrieked, sending a howling gusting of white into his eyes. They stung, as if coated with acid, and he blinked rapidly. Another gust of wind. He saw those eyes, startling against the white, and then gone again.  
  
Hurry... hurry!  
  
  
Feeling the sudden sense of urgency, he struggled up the slope that had suddenly appeared on front of me, the landscape ahead, all around was a pure, untouched white, as were the clouds so that in the end he could not really tell where snow ended and sky began.  
The wind had slowed, and all he could feel at that moment was snow falling into his eyes and spines, seeping through the fur on his torso and face.  
He had read somewhere that falling snow was not truly silent, but if it made any sound then, he could not hear it.  
He reached out his hand as he took the last laborious step to the top of the hill and gripped the outstretched palm offered to him. The glove against his own was white, again pure and immaculate against the blinding backdrop of fog. The hand was warm.   
Alive.   
Through the soft white glove he could feel the pulse, beating.   
  
Even, steady. One. Two.  
  
And then another gust of howling wind and their fingers were slipping apart and even as he scrabbled for a hold, the hand melted out of his grasp, like an illusion, and only the familiar voice remained.  
  
Hurry...  
  
Frustrated, he searched the bleakness of white surrounding him, shouted, "Where are you?"  
  
His words bounced back at him, echoing off the unseen walls.  
  
It was sunrise, but he could not see the sun.  
  
  
******  
  
Betrayal known. Friends not seen. A lonely life. Hears my scream.  
  
******  
  
  
"Where are you?" he shouted again, louder, but only the echo returned. His nose and ears were numb, as were his fingertips despite the gloves on his hands. He sank to his knees. The snow fell.  
  
He wasn't coming...he wasn't coming back.  
  
There were birdcalls in his ears and he looked up again to see the branches of the familiar tree spreading over him. The snow was gone, the sunlight warm on his cheeks and the air strangely heavy.  
He got to his feet slowly. He was on a hill - his hill - a rocky outcrop that had a view for miles and miles.  
  
There was no stone in front of him though. He found that strange; that the marble plaque was not there.  
  
He used to nap there, when he was younger, under the heat of the afternoon, hiding high in the treetops where no one would think to look for him.   
  
"I almost forgot about this place," he murmured. He had too, once. He felt, rather than heard the response.  
  
I've never forgotten.  
  
"I wouldn't expect you to," he returned certainly, tearing his gaze away from the tree and slowly turning in a circle. He gazed at the landscape below the hill, towards Knothole to his left - though he could not see it through the trees - the forest all around him. Robotropolis was far beyond them all, the dark buildings in stark contrast to the lush vegetation everywhere else. The airfield was beyond that again.   
The grass rippled in the breeze and he heard the bell in the belltower toll once, twice, signaling the start of classes for the children of the village.  
As though there was no war.  
  
  
******  
  
Unknown faces. Unwanted past. Solitude. Ends at last.  
  
******  
  
  
  
What happened here?  
  
The voice was shocked, and he frowned. "What do you mean?"   
  
It was then he smelled burning... but there was nothing cooking in the firepit near the tree that he used to sneak away and make his dinner in the evening, and...  
  
What happened here?  
  
When he whirled to face the stretch of land below once more, it was gone. He could see Knothole. The wooden browns of the painstakingly erected huts were not longer standing. Smoke filled the air, char-burned ashes of stench, and a smell of burning flesh and fur. The waters of the Great River roiled and foamed, reflecting the fires that were all that remained of the place that had been home for almost as long as he could remember.  
He clenched his hands in silent agonized torment, even as his fists strained towards action, he cried.  
  
What happened here?  
  
He knew it for what it was. He knew what it meant then.  
  
"I... You're... dead," he said. "I... failed. You were there."  
  
Lightning flashed in the sky and it began to rain, but he did not move, did not run from where he stood. There was a presence next to him. He did not turn around, merely stood, arms by his sides, and looked up at the sky. The rain stung his eyes, but he did not blink.  
  
"You were there," he said again. "I failed. I couldn't win this war. This fight."  
  
No. No one won this fight.  
  
He could have argued that point in a hundred different ways by point and counter point, but it had been argued already, by the Freedom Fighters and the his closest friends and the newscasters and the reporters across the world, the former Robians and the parents who had lost their children, by veterans and mourners praying over the graves of loved ones.  
  
For years, and he was sick of the war. The robots, the missions, even if the city had burned, the madman who had created it was still out there. Plotting.  
  
He was sick of it.   
  
Sick of the constant fighting. When did it happen that you had to 'fight' merely to exist?  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't...I was weak. I..."  
  
You're not weak. You're the strongest person I know.  
  
He tried to smile, but he did not have the heart, merely shrugging wet shoulders. Thunder cracked in the sky overhead.  
  
"So much...for nothing. We were gonna to change the world, remember? You and I..."  
  
We did change the world, I think. But not in the way we planned.  
  
"No," he echoed. "Not that way."  
  
He felt him laugh, if illusions could laugh, if it was an illusion standing by his side looking with him into the mist and smoke that rose from the ruined village into the clouds. "Tell me something."  
  
What's that?  
  
He unclenched his hands, feeling the collected water run down the soaked fur and drip down his sides as it continued to rain, drops streaking down his face and neck, torso and hips, trickling down his legs into his crimson sneakers.  
  
The rain was warm.  
  
"In the end...was what we did...did it mean anything?"  
  
  
  
******  
  
Not a friend. No longer a foe. By my side. He does go.  
  
******  
  
  
  
His companion was silent, and the thunder roared again, softer now, and in the darkening sky the lightning flashed, and he could see his comrades eyes.   
Violet flashing amethyst.  
  
He closed his own eyes.  
  
"You don't have to tell me that it didn't," he said quietly, "because I guess I already know. I guess...I've always known..."  
  
As long as it meant something to you, came the reply. To them, to all of us, then it is enough.  
  
And as the rain gushed down in rivulets and streams and rivers running endlessly into the Great Lake and the oceans beyond, and as the thunder cried and the mountains shook beneath their feet and the world crumbled around them and the great tree trunk split in two.  
  
And then they fell together into the chasm.  
  
The lightning shimmered in a beam of brilliance around them and he heard the angels singing.  
  
And then it was dark.  
  
  
The scene was a more familiar one now.   
  
And a sense of deja-vu washed over him as he gazed around him. The earth was black and forbidding. The cold darkness of the night, the grasping blackness of the shadows, the enveloping obscurity of a tomb.  
  
He knew this.  
  
The earth surrounded him, high around him, enclosing him. There were no exits, he knew. There would be only one way out.  
  
And it was always the same.  
  
There was absolutely nothing he could do to change that fact. He was powerless. He hated that feeling more than anything else.  
  
Sonic! Help me!  
  
  
  
******  
  
Matched step for step. He and I. Rivals once. The marked one dies.  
  
******  
  
  
  
The scream. The same scream. He knew it would never be screamed like that. Only in his dreams....  
  
  
He turned rapidly and almost stumbled to a stunned halt at the sight. It always did this. He knew it by heart, and it always did this to him.   
  
"Red.....?" he whispered.   
  
His tone carried several blatant emotions, disbelief, sorrow and even hope. Though it was foolish to hope, but he did. It was his nature. His comrade met his gaze unwaveringly and nodded. Then his face twisted in a mixture of pain and fear.  
  
He began to run.  
  
The other rarely showed anyone fear. Even if he was feeling it. To show anxiety or discomfort was to show weakness. And the Guardian considered revealing a weakness - to anyone - as unforgivable.  
  
So, he ran.  
  
He ran until his feet began to burn the ground beneath him, the friction too much. And still he ran.  
  
And yet, the Guardian grew no closer.  
  
He knew what was coming next.  
  
But still, he ran.  
  
The gloved hand remained outstretched. Pleading. And, as always, for an instant, the amethyst met his own contrasting emerald.  
  
Held...  
  
Broke...  
  
He screamed...  
  
  
  
******  
  
Dance of darkness. Embrace the night. Together we. Take to flight.  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sonic woke with a sharp cry and drew to a sitting position, panting slightly as he forced his hammering heart to slow. A trick a scarlet echidna had taught him once.....  
Breathing deeply, his eyes closed for a quick minute and when they reopened, his breathing had almost resumed it's normal rate.  
  
It did not help though.  
  
The darkness around him told the hedgehog it was still night, and Sonic had no real desire to know what time. He would not be able to get anymore sleep that night anyway. It was always the same.  
But at least the nightmares had not gotten any worse.  
Less frequent now, yes. But still startlingly terrifying.   
Sonic hated feeling helpless with a passion.  
He frowned as he glanced at the dresser to his side. An ungloved hand reached out and idly picked up the bleached page lying there in the bright moonlight. Just a nondescript piece of paper.....A simple invitation....  
It looked harmless enough. The green eyes narrowed.  
  
Appearances were often deceiving.  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
The footsteps echoed along the walls of the pristine hallway, the steps perfectly even, almost measured. It wasn't a parade ground march, but it could come close. Certainly there was purpose and authority to the steps.   
And confidence too.  
She tugged the uniform, pulling the long white jacket closer. Despite her training, she had yet to feel fully comfortable in a uniform, though standard procedures demanded it.  
In the sterile surroundings of the hospital complex no one could ever have mistaken her for anything but a nurse. From the polish shine on her shoes to the neatness of her spines, her uniform and posture were textbook perfect.  
  
She would allow nothing less for herself now.  
  
Whether she was technically off duty or not.  
  
Of course, once she got home, it would be another story entirely. Longingly, she permitted a brief thought of the bubble bath she planned to draw, accompanied by hot chocolate and a novel she had been meaning to curl up and read.  
It was the most frivolous thing she'd been able to find - a sappy romance of the sort she had ignored over the last few years, whose cover hero had caught her eye because he looked ever-so-slightly like a certain emerald eyed hedgehog.....  
  
She dismissed the thought quickly, lately her mind seemed to be turning back to him more often.   
She could not allow that.  
There was far too much going on in her life for past crushes to intrude.  
  
Ten feet to freedom....  
  
She'd been wearing the uniform for far too many hours of the day- she'd nearly forgotten what if felt like to be free of it. Not that she disliked her training. Quite the opposite in fact, she lived for it now. Healing and helping people made her feel not-quite-so-useless.....  
  
Three feet to go....  
  
"Nurse Amy!!... Nurse Amy Rose! Wait!"  
  
Amy Rose halted, her hands touching the two-way doors, hesitated, then with a silent sight, turned to face the caller.  
The young puppy looked up at the taller teenager with an adoring grin, then held out a bouquet of flowers.  
Amy started.  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
The child continued to grin wildly as she pushed the flowers into the unmoving hands.  
  
"These're from ma daddy," she explained.  
  
Amy blushed.  
  
"Thank you!" the child continued oblivious.   
  
The little head bobbed and long ears flopped adoringly.  
  
Amy couldn't resist a smile as she took the proffered bunch, shifting them slightly to get a better grip. Then, she knelt, eye to eye with the girl and tousled her hair gently.  
  
"Thank you...." said the rose colored hedgehog, her voice very soft.  
  
The child's grin increased abruptly and before Amy could move, she found herself gripped in an enthusiastic hug.  
Blinking, she shifted the flowers yet again even as she returned the hug hesitantly.  
The little girl trusted her.  
All of her patients trusted her with complete impunity. Most also looked up to her. Amy couldn't help but find this strange, unaware of her appeal.  
She was the fastest moving intern in the hospitals history. She had a knack for the profession that was uncanny. Even her peers admitted it. She was also the youngest nurse in training the hospital had. Yet another reason for admiration.  
There was a certain vulnerability about her that drew people like a magnet. But it was tapered with a steel determination and old pain.  
The whining pink hedgehog of her youth was dead.  
She had died along with the many hundreds of Station Square when Perfect Chaos had flooded it two year previously.  
Amy was glad she was gone. That girl was a useless, fussing, ignorant child.  
  
Innocent.  
  
And dead.  
  
Amy pulled away from the puppy with a little more force than she had intended, and quickly apologized by giving the girl another quick hug. She smiled again, before rising quickly to her feet. Then she eyed the flowers in an exaggerated manner, before hugging them as well.  
The girl giggled.  
  
"Tell your dad I said thanks, okay? And I'll see you both tomorrow."  
  
If possible the smile widened. "Sure!"  
  
The rose colored hedgehog favored her with a wink, eliciting another giggle. Then the little girl was off and running at a breakneck speed back down the hallway. Grinning and shaking her head in disapproval, she turned and pushed open the swinging doors.  
  
Freedom at last....  
  
Though her job did have it's perks......  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
"You're leaving then....?"  
  
Sally looked strangely somber at Sonic's confirming nod. She withheld her sigh and watched him resume packing. His room was abnormally neat and it cast a feeling of unreality to the entire scene.   
Sonic's room was not neat. It was a rule with him, he never put things 'away'; just casting them off and picking them up later. Sally thought it fitted his lifestyle quite nicely.  
  
Scatterbrain.  
  
But he still managed to find everything with startling precision, showing Sally another bizarre skill. She would never figure out how he could zero in on an object he wanted amid the jumble of... Junk.  
At least 'she' called it junk. Sonic thought it something else entirely.  
She eyed a strange looking stone piece off the side of his bed, wondering where and when he'd picked the article up.  
Sonic collected things, all kinds of things. From unusual stones and shells, to pieces of memorabilia. He had a fragment of the palace walls that once stood in Mobotropolis, an old manuscript that - she presumed - must have originated from the palace library. He even possessed some tiny figurines that actually looked as though they might be worth something. Again, Sally had no idea when he'd acquired them, but then Sonic constantly went missing.  
Lately more often than not.  
  
"So.... When will you be back?" she asked softly.  
  
An emerald eye fastened on her and he gave a slight shrug. Sally pressed her lips in disapproval. There was a time when she found it difficult to get a word in edgeways.  
Now, she just wanted the 'old' Sonic back.   
She wanted him back so desperately....  
  
"Nightmare again?"  
  
He stiffened.  
  
Sally sighed as she watched him silently resume packing.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED....  
  
  
Where is Sonic going? Is he leaving the freedom fighters? How does Amy Rose fit into this...?  
  
And do you care at all......?  
  
*Sigh*  
  
Sonic; Yeah. Just go away Orin. Leave us in peace.  
  
Knuckles; *Glare*  
  
Orin; What!?  
  
Knuckles; I'm not in this, am I?  
  
Orin; Um.....  
  
Sonic; And you put Amy in here!? I swear.... Every time I think you can't 'possibly' get any worse... You show me new levels of cruelty.   
  
Knuckles; *Wincing in sympathy* Yeah, Orin.... That's harsh.... Even for you.  
  
Orin; What's wrong with Amy!? I happen to like her!  
  
Sonic; Yeah... Birds of a feather....  
  
Knuckles; Hm.... Peas in a pod.  
  
Orin; ¬___¬ I'm 'not' amused. You know what happened when I grow unamused...?  
  
Knuckles; *Looks at Sonic who shrugs*  
  
Sonic; No.... But I'll bet you're gonna tell us anyway?  
  
Orin; *Nodding* Uh-huh.... I write.  
  
Knuckles; O____o  
  
Sonic; O___O Eep......  
  
  
Heh..... ^____^ This fic is the next in The Last Guardian arc..... If you guys are looking for Knuckles, don't worry.... I couldn't stop writing the echidna if I tried... And I'm not even gonna try.  
  
  
Ja ne and take care!  
  
*Huggles*  
  
Orin. 


	2. Nightmares Begin

Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She's mine. But the rest belong to Sega! Dagnabbit!  
  
Orin; "Um... Hello?... Anyone there?"  
  
Sonic; "I don't think so somehow."  
  
Knuckles; *Nods* "Yeah... I think they all got tired of waiting and just went home."  
  
Orin; O__o;; "Don't say that! Surely there must be someone left?"  
  
Sonic; "Well, maybe if you'd posted this chapter sooner, then-"  
  
Orin; "Hey! I do have a life y'know!"  
  
Knuckles; "Could've fooled me..."  
  
Orin; *Growls* "Do you wanna stay dead?"  
  
Knuckles; "Shutting up."  
  
Sonic; "But you do know that the key is in being consistent in your posting, right?"  
  
Knuckles; O___O  
  
Orin; O_____O  
  
Sonic; "...... What....?"  
  
Knuckles; "D-Did he..."  
  
Orin; "I know...."  
  
Knuckles; "....Wow..."  
  
Sonic; "What?!"  
  
Orin; "Oh... sorry.... We're um... just...  
  
Knuckles; "Surprised that you actually said something intelligent."  
  
Orin; *Nods*  
  
Sonic; "Hey!"  
  
  
Some warnings here... There'll be flashbacks and some back stories in this fic... You should be able to recognize them pretty quickly when you encounter them... There'll also be dream scenes... Again there should be recognizable very quickly.  
  
^___^;;  
  
  
  
  
  
  
WINTERHEART: Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Nightmares Begin...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dim sunlight glinted off the asphalt, reflecting shadows, cement and ice.   
  
It was cold. Unnaturally cold.   
  
Only a month ago, the heat of the sun had been causing the air to shimmer with saturating warmth.  
Everywhere people had discarded shirts, coats, abandoned shoes even, when possible.  
Now, only well wrapped people walked the streets, wearing jackets, coats, hats, scarves, gloves.... And more. The air was bitterly cold. Overly frigid for an Autumn month.  
At that particular moment people on the streets were scurrying for shelter as the dark clouds finally opened up with a downpour.  
  
Snow.  
  
It was snowing already..... The air was so thin and cold that the rain came down as sleet, then as softer, lighter powder snow.  
A human child paused outside the little café opened her mouth to capture a snowflake on the tip of her tongue. She had barely paused an instant, when she was hauled onward by her rushing mother, eager to get out of the shower.   
The aqua eyes followed the child as she cast one last mournful look at the rapidly whitening ground.  
  
"Thank God for central heating......."  
  
"Amen."  
  
The pink spines swung lightly as the owner of those striking eyes turned and cast an amused look at her companion standing behind the counter.  
Rowan returned the amused look with one of her own. Then she mock frowned.  
  
"Though here I thought you came for the company...."  
  
A curve of lips.  
  
"Or the food...."  
  
A smile.  
  
Rowan shook her head.  
  
"I feel so used....." she sighed dramatically.   
  
A laugh.  
  
The fox turned her back to her still giggling companion as she asked; "So.... What'll it be....?"  
  
"Hmm....."  
  
The hedgehog looked thoughtful as Rowan waited patiently. The pale fox already knew her friends answer, but she asked anyway. As she had done everyday for the past two years.  
  
"Anything," the hedgehog grinned and added, "Once it's hot!"  
  
She blinked at the change in routine. Amy Rose was a stickler for routine.   
Another glance outside showed a thin cover of white beginning to blanket the ground. And the snowfall was growing heavier.  
  
She nodded in understanding.  
  
"Comin' right up...." she announced brightly.  
  
But her comrades attention was focused elsewhere, and as Rowan swung back to her - cocoa in hand- she could not help but follow the aquamarine gaze to it's destination. Across the restaurant some residents had turned up the volume on the TV, apparently awaiting the latest weather report.  
It was Autumn; it was bitterly cold outside; and snowing; Rowan's mouth thinned; she could have told them what the outcome would be.   
But it was not the weather that they were watching at the moment. The fox tilted her head over the counter as she put the glass down, trying to get a better view. From what she could make out, it was some kind of interview.  
She leaned further. Reporters shooting questions off the bat. Amy never like reporters, she knew. Something about them being too pushy. The rose colored hedgehog avoided them at all costs.  
These were no different, barely allowing their subject to think, they fired another, and another.  
But strangely enough, the voice that answered them was sure and confident, reciprocating their queries with startling ease.  
Across from her she noticed the Aqua eyes narrow dangerously. It was then that the volume was turned up and she recognized the voice.  
  
It was Sonic the Hedgehog.   
  
In recent years, his appearance had changed.   
His sharp blue spines had grown considerably longer and now curved downward. His eyes had also developed a deep and captivating shade of light green. As a result, he had a much more respectful and awe-inspiring image.   
  
Rowan turned her eyes from the monitor to Amy again when the hedgehog made a stinted movement away from the screen.   
The move radiated disgust.  
On the screen, thousands of people crowded around to get a better view of the cobalt hedgehog, whose green eyes glinted reflectively in the pale glow of the setting sun. News teams from around the world crowded in and around, aiming to get their questions answered for their own respective stations.  
The rose-colored hedgehog muttered something inaudible under her breath as she swung away completely. She suddenly had no desire to socialize or converse, and thought again of her cozy apartment with waiting book....  
But Rowan was looking at her curiously. The desert fox tilted her head with raised brows, placing the cocoa near Amy on the counter.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
Amy fixed her with a dark look before repeating;  
  
"He's so full of himself..."  
  
The brows shot up even more as the fox regarded the hedgehog in surprise and a little bit of worry at how her usually cheerful friend was overreacting. Rowan cast the screen a sidelong glance then looked back at her flatmate.  
  
"Amy, honey, he 'did' save Station Square from being destroyed two years ago.... The whole city for that matter. The people are just showing their appreciation for it."  
  
Amy merely persisted with stirring her cocoa. Her eyes fixed on the swirling chocolate drink.  
Rowan continued, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"Personally, what I wouldn't give for five minutes of that hedgehogs time."  
  
Amy pointedly ignored her.  
  
Rowan sighed in resignation, turning away from the screen and walked off to serve an impatient squirrel who had just entered.   
Nurse Rose was one of the most stubborn people she knew. Though why her friend had a grudge against one of the world's foremost defenders was beyond her....  
The pale hedgehog looked back up at the video screen. A group of desperate but attractive females were forcing their way through the crowd to get a better look at Sonic.   
He smiled.  
He was obviously quite happy to be getting their attention.  
  
The resentment surged into anger at the sight.  
  
He had no right.  
  
Not after what he had done....  
  
"He doesn't even know what love is..." she muttered to herself, and the anger turned to rage.   
  
"He only loves himself...."  
  
The stinging anguish was too much. An old anger and a deep resentment that had only burned and roped out of control over time.  
  
She hated him.  
  
She hated his cruelty, she hated his impulsiveness, his rejection, his tolerance.  
  
Amy hurled her mug at the video screen.  
  
The contents splashed over the floor as the container spun through the air, sailing with deadly accuracy. Then it bounced off the monitor and hit the jukebox next to it.  
Making a silent apology to Rowan who was staring at her with shock and growing ire, but nonetheless feeling better after her little tantrum, she stood up and stormed out of the café even as the music on the jukebox began to play.   
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
Melanie Rose rapped on the door of her daughter's room, fingers twisting her shirtsleeves awkwardly. The sun streamed over her soft features from a nearby window, hiding the brightness of her eyes in lines of shadow. Her fur was slightly sticky, as always, from the humid heat of the Southern Continent.  
  
"Come in."  
  
She winced at the sound of the voice that was distinctly his, despite the feminine lilt. The door clicked open, and she entered the massive chamber. Amy lay on her bed, dwarfed by the vastness of the mattress. At the age of seven, it seemed like she would drown in the sheets. Melanie was about to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.  
  
Lucas' tarot cards were out, set down carefully beside his daughter.   
  
Her tiny hands tapped on the thick deck as the light winked mercilessly on the cards. The same   
sunlight reflected on the liquid pools that shimmered over Amy's irises, stubbornly cohering and refusing to break from her eyes. Melanie's shoulders crumpled for a moment, in resignation.  
  
"Of course you know," she murmured.  
  
"Papa's gone," Amy answered.   
  
Her voice trembled a little, but held its ground.   
  
She added, "He thought -- he thought of you. Of forgiveness. And -- honor."   
  
She was silent afterwards, only staring at the laminated cards, comforted and mesmerized by the light flashing along the smooth surface.  
  
She had walked alongside her father as a ghost, sensing both that inner serenity and outer storm. His mind had been in a perfect calm, but the world had swirled around him like a maelstrom. She had felt the touch of cold steel against callused fingers as he lifted the rapier, and what followed was that fatal ballet of feints and thrusts. She could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck, see the glare of the sun on dark metal...  
  
The robots twinkling in the sun...  
  
She had felt the slash across his right hand, just below the wrist, felt the rapier clatter to the ground. She closed her eyes, pressing against the pain in her temples.  
  
She had felt him reach for the familiar sword in the haze and disillusionment that came before death, felt his hands grasping nothing. There was a moment of lancing despair in his poise.  
  
When he died, something snapped in her head. The visions that had once been so clear, so lucid, now blurred into overlapping shapes of the undefined. What remained was sensation and fragmented thought.   
  
Forgiveness. Honor. Despair.  
  
When Amy looked up to tell her mother, she found herself looking at empty space.  
  
The door was still ajar.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
His labored gasps echoed harshly in his ears as his mind froze in terror. Darkness surrounded him. Total blackness.  
  
He couldn't breath!   
  
His desperate attempts to draw air into his lungs only succeeded in prompting a faint cough as he weakly pried at the hand leaving bruised finger prints all around his neck.   
  
No...let me go...   
  
Despite himself, a soft whimper escaped his lips.   
  
I didn't do anything...   
  
The choking grip suddenly left his throat and he drew in a pained breath only to have it forced from his lungs as a hard fist once again connected with his ribs.   
  
No you didn't!   
  
And I'm dead because of that!   
  
I'm dead! Because of you!  
  
Blow after bruising blow followed, curses and insults fell upon ears that could barely   
hear them anymore...  
  
Your fault!  
  
...as darkness closed in and his field of vision narrowed...  
  
All yours!  
  
...and the pain faded to a dull ache...  
  
Until a final blow slammed his slim body into the wall and pain ran like fire through the base of his skull...  
  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sonic twisted out of sleep with a harsh cry, pulling himself up almost in panic.   
He slowly returned to himself, shuddering slightly as he took a deep breath. The hedgehog grasped the sheet with hands that shook, clutching then, reassuring himself that they were solid - real.  
Every sinew was on fire, every muscle ached with a weariness he had never known before, not even as he and Tails had made their escape from the burning city. His blood rushed and his heart pulsed irregular and fast against his ribs.   
  
He was afraid.  
  
Green eyes blinked in the darkness, sliding closed wearily. He wanted to go back to sleep, he wanted to fall into the darkness of oblivion. A dreamless sleep.  
  
But he was afraid.  
  
So instead Sonic moved from the bed. He headed for the bathroom- the shower. Perhaps it could keep him awake, a little longer.  
  
He stepped lightly into the shower, moving his hand to set the water temperature a little cooler than usual. Something to help snap him out of the dark frame of mind he had found himself in once his heart had stopped beating triple time.  
He was alone at least, so no one could see his fear. That was why he had run.  
  
Sonic gave a tiny bitter smile.  
  
As of later, it seemed that running was all he could do.  
  
He had to; Sally grew more worried with time; she would want to know what was bothering him.  
  
And Sonic had no intention of sharing 'that' with anyone. It was a lot more trouble than it was worth to try an evade the persistent Princess, but Sonic had a stubborn streak that matched, and possibly exceeded that of the Sally.   
So he had run.  
He absently reached for the soap and continued to argue mentally, attempting to take refuge in the simplest tactic of all- determinedly trying to think about something else....  
  
Anything else.   
  
It was then that Sonic realized that the water had turned ice cold, as a shock ran through his body. With a muffled yelp, he reached up for the water temperature controls and tried desperately to turn the hot water up to full, but the steam cascading over and around him remained steadfastly icy.   
  
It even seemed to get colder.   
  
The hedgehog could see his breath when he released it, in a puff of visible white.   
  
Having no other alternative, he jumped out of the shower with a scowl, grabbing the towel with shaking fingers. Glancing up, the caught his own reflection shivering in the large mirror over the sink. He turned his scowl at the reflection as his emerald eyes narrowed an inch..... He could see steam still emanating from the open shower door.  
  
Impossible.  
  
Wheeling abruptly, Sonic stuck his hand out and under the water and had to suppress a cry as his fingers were scalded mercilessly. He snatched his hand out and glared at the shower, moving his stinging eyes to where the temperature controls were turned all the way to hot.   
  
As a result, near-boiling water was pouring from the head.   
  
His hands were red even through the fine fur, but not burned enough to be blistered.   
  
Though the rest of his body was still freezing.   
  
The hedgehog could feel the steam emerging from the shower still, beginning to warm him along with the cold tile beneath his feet.  
The mirror behind him was also beginning to fog as a result of condensation.  
As the reflected image began to blur, Sonic saw something that caused the chill to return instantly.  
Indistinct in the fog covered glass, a figure appeared to stand behind him. Almost on a level with his own height, Sonic's spines allowed him to always look a little taller.  
Sonic did not have to see him clearly to know what he looked like.  
The blurred colors in of the fogged-mirror image were rendered in his memory into impeccable detail.  
  
Eyes of dark amethyst stared into eyes of emerald, startling bright, even through the fog.  
  
The first time Sonic had seen him, he had been reminded of blood by the sanguine fur....  
  
Emerald eyes narrowed dangerously, in defiance.  
  
He was dead.  
  
Everyone had said so.  
  
The Guardian was dead.  
  
A tanned arm shot forward in an angry movement to wipe the glass and confirm the image.   
But as Sonic wiped the fog away, the dark figure was gone as though it had never been.  
  
There was nothing but an exhausted hedgehog with startling emerald eyes, trying to see what was not there.  
  
Sonic looked away.   
  
Wheeling around he darted back to the bedroom, searching for his shoes as he went. He did not need to turn a light; the moon was adequate enough. It took him next to nothing to discover them. Then they were on his feet and he was gone. The door clicked softly shut in his wake  
  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tails watched Sonic eye the mass of speckled stars in the night sky. It was too cold in his mind to be outside stargazing. But he would be leaving in the morning and lately Sonic did not make social calls. Which was why he had been surprised when the hedgehog had come knocking.  
He could hardly refuse. He loved spending time with Sonic. Even if the hedgehog was remaining unusually silent and thoughtful.  
  
It worried Tails. It worried everyone.   
  
Sonic had changed.  
  
"What're you looking at Sonic?" asked the fox.   
  
He had changed as well. Physically at least. His coat of yellow-orange fur had become thicker. Once, the young fox had been ashamed of the two tails he was born with. Instead, as Tails stood next to Sonic, they swayed confidently behind him. The fox had a much better view on things now.  
  
After all, his dream to run alongside Sonic had come true two years ago.   
  
The kid was a cub no more. He was a valuable asset to the Knothole Freedom Fighters.  
  
"Sonic?" persisted Tails.  
  
The hedgehog blinked.  
  
"Oh, sorry, kid."   
  
Sonic looked down away from the sky and threw him a smile. It was lacking though...  
  
"Nice night, huh?"  
  
Tails looked up and nodded in thoughtful agreement. The two stood on the shoreline near the Central Station hotel. The dark water washed in, kissing the white sands before pulling back again.  
  
Sonic sighed. "Those robots in Station Square tonight-"  
  
"Hmm? Yeah! You kicked their butts!" Tails grinned wickedly. His face was filled with approbation after the fight. It had been an unexpected encounter.   
Sonic had not drawn him outside to go spoiling for a fight. But it seemed that one had come to them. Despite being out of practice, Sonic had handled the rogue robots expertly. It had taken him seconds to dismantle them.  
  
Sonic smiled despite himself. But something was bothering him.  
  
"-Those robots were like nothing I've ever seen. Nothing Robotnik's cooked up in the past looked like that."  
  
Tails frowned, trying to place the exact design of the machines. He did not see anything too much out of place, but then Sonic was more familiar with Robotnik's design than he. Despite his love for machinery.   
  
"It's strange too...." continued Sonic, "I'm pretty sure those robots could've easily been taken out by ordinary guns. The cops barely did anything."  
  
He picked up a smooth black stone and hurled it across the surface of the water. it skipped eight times before disappearing beneath the surface with a decisive splash. Tails reached for a stone of his own, then followed Sonic's example.  
  
"You're thinking that maybe Robotnik didn't make these robots?"  
  
Sonic didn't turn but continued to watch the waves.  
  
"I don't know Tails.... who else but Robotnik makes robots, and then dispatches them to cause havoc?"  
  
Tails didn't have an answer to that, he shrugged, "Well maybe he's getting help"   
  
He searched for another stone to skip.  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
Sonic turned this time and handed the fox a similar stone to the last one. Tails accepted the gift with another shrug.  
  
"I dunno... maybe someone's helping him to make them or something, that would explain the different design."  
  
Sonic watched as he arched his arm sideways and swung, hurling the stone so that it skipped five times before sinking.  
  
"Hmm... Someone could be designing the robots and Robotnik manufacturing them I guess. But you know how that maniac is... Somehow I can't see him going into a partnership."  
  
Tails smiled a little at that, "Robotnik and Co." he sniggered.  
  
"Don't even think it." Sonic said.  
  
But Tails saw that he was fighting back laughter too. It was good to see Sonic laugh. It did not come as easy to him anymore. And it was obvious that the cobalt hedgehog was far more concerned by Robotnik's apparent return that he was letting on.  
  
He had every reason to be. If the human was back; then Sonic would get his chance at vengeance.  
  
  
A loud sound shattered the companionable silence. Whirling around, the pair were treated to the sight of one of the apartment buildings being torn apart by an explosion, twisting flames leaping from the highest windows.   
  
"Sonic!" Tails shouted.  
  
The hedgehog was gone, his answer floating back to the fox on the wind.   
  
"Already on it!"  
  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sonic burst through the hotel lobby and out into the street. He paused for a second to look up at the burning building across the square. The flames reached high into the night sky, illuminating it with a hellish shade of crimson.   
Robots spherical in structure swarmed around the building like flies. They were automatons created to rescue people from the building. Sonic recognized them immediately.   
Below, on the darkened street before him, Sonic saw that a crowd of police and Station Square citizens had already begun to form.  
  
A scream broke through his observations. He looked around absently but couldn't see it's owner.  
  
Frowning, then turning away, he headed toward the barricades and police officers now holding the crowd back as the injured were brought out and attended to.  
  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Rowan pushed the medic away as soon as she saw the hedgehog. She proceeded to shove through the writhing mass of people to get to him. It was infuriatingly slow and she screamed in frustration.  
She saw him turn for an instant before continuing only to be held back by a police officer. She headed for the arguing Freedom Fighter, praying that he'd stay a moment longer.  
  
She just needed to get to him on time. She pleaded silently that she would. He friend depended on it. She darted around a screaming woman and shoved a bulky chimp aside, then buried her way through another throng of bodies. She growled; tempted to scream again.  
  
Please...  
  
Another person was shoved aside in anger.  
  
Please...  
  
And another, she was close....   
  
"Please!" she gasped.  
  
The cobalt hedgehog stiffened, then turned in surprise.  
  
She came to a stumbling halt before him, wavering and panting. She ached all over. Behind her the people still surged.  
  
"You don't know me," she gasped, "but you know my friend... you've got to help her!"  
  
He reached out his hands to steady her as she swayed dangerously. Her white uniform was torn and burnt in places and she looked exhausted.  
  
He frowned, eyes intent, "Who-?"  
  
"Amy!" she choked. There were tears streaming down her face. Whether it was from the smoke or simply distress it was hard to tell.  
  
"Amy Rose," she lowered her head, fighting to stay standing, "they're trying to take her.... robots.... everywhere!"  
  
Sonic paled. His grip tightened on her shoulders impulsively and she bit back a cry.  
  
"Apartment number, floor?" he demanded shortly.  
  
"Top floor," she sobbed, "Number seventeen. You can't miss it!"  
  
Before another second could pass, Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed. The crowd and police watched in awe as he tore past them into the front entrance. Inside the lobby, he found that there would be no faster way to reach the top floor than by stairs.   
  
Without hesitation, he flew up the flights of steps like lightening.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED.....  
  
Chapter 2: Every Rose Has It's thorn...  
  
It's a race against time for Sonic to save Amy Rose... But what if his biggest fan doesn't want to be saved.... By him...?  
  
  
  
Sonic; "Why d'you stop there? I was just getting some action!"  
  
Knuckles; "Was that me in the bathroom?"  
  
Sonic; "Yeah... This is all very weird..."  
  
Orin; "It's kinda supposed to be."  
  
Sonic; "And what's with Amy and those cards...?"  
  
Knuckles; "I sense a plot twist here..."  
  
Orin; "Shhh!!"  
  
Sonic; "Waitaminute... I'm rushing up to help... Amy...."  
  
Knuckles; ^__^ "You know what that means..."  
  
Sonic; "Nooo! I'm gonna have to save her? Am I gonna have to actually talk to her.... Cause if that's the case I'll just quit now...."  
  
Orin; "Oh hush you...."  
  
Knuckles; *Grin* "Looks like that's a yes, Sonic."  
  
Sonic; "Ack! No!"  
  
Orin; *Sigh*  
  
  
  
Um... In case you hadn't noticed..... This is a continuation of The Last Guardian.  
*Lowers her voice so the Knuckles can't hear*  
The timeline is five months after Knuckles the Echidna was declared deceased.   
*Resumes normal volume*  
Now the Freedom Fighters,- Sonic included- are doing their best to get on with their lives.  
The Floating Island has been lost, along with the legendary Master Emerald. The lesser emeralds' whereabouts' are also unknown.  
Robotnik has not been heard of, or seen since the destruction of the Sky Fortress.  
Some presume him dead.  
Others are still waiting for him to reappear- With revenge in mind.  
Robotropolis is all but gone, though the robots remain. So the fight continues.  
  
^__^ Just so you won't get confused.  
  
Sonic; "Yeah... This fic is confusing enough as it is."  
  
Orin; "Shhh!"  
  
*Huggles and chocolate frogs*  
  
And perhaps leave a review, to let me know if I should stop or go on?  
  
  
Orin. 


	3. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She's mine. But the rest belong to Sega! All bow to the All Powerful, All Mighty… Sega! *Ummmmmmmmmmmmm* 

*Twaps those who aren't bowing*

_Sonic_: "Ow! *_Clutches his head_* What the Hell was that for!?"

_Orin;_ "You weren't bowing."

_Sonic; *Glare_* "Then hit Red! He wasn't bowing either!"

_Orin;_ "No!"

Knuckles; *Grin* 

_Sonic; *Looking indignant*_ "Why not?!"

_Orin_; "Don't you think I've tortured him enough?"

_Sonic; *Looks at the still smiling Knuckles*_ "Hell no!"

_Knuckles;_ "Hey! You're supposed to be on my side!"

_Sonic_; "Works both ways, Red. Since when has my pain been funny to you?"

_Knuckles;_ "Why is my pain '_always_' funny to you…?"

_Sonic;_ "Uhh…." *_shrugs*_ "I dunno… Just is."

_Knuckles; *Gives a satisfied nod*_ "There you go. Okay Orin…"

Orin; *Twaps Sonic again* 

_Sonic_; OW! Damnit!"

Some warnings here... There'll be flashbacks and some back stories in this fic... You should be able to recognize them pretty quickly when you encounter them... There'll also be dream scenes... Again there should be recognizable very quickly.

**_WINTERHEART: Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered._**

Chapter 3 

**_Every Rose Has Its Thorn._**

_*****_

_"The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware; joyously; drunkenly; serenely; divinely aware."_

_*****_

The heels of his sneakers echoed as he ran, a long uninterrupted rapping. It resounded around him at each step Sonic took. Only, his feet moved so fast that each individual resonant step bled into the next in a strange harmony. He moved up the stairwell with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to stairs - he rarely used the elevator. For Sonic, running was quicker.

And anyone with eyes to see, would notice the urgency to his steps. 

His heartbeat was hammering loudly in his chest; not exertion, but anxiety. He was faintly terrified. It had taken moments for the stranger's words to register, but by then he was already halfway to the top of the building. 

Amy… they're trying to take her… robots… everywhere….

It was all it took. All he needed.

Flights of stairs disappeared beneath his feet. Sonic may as well have been flying.

The sprinting hedgehog burst through the doors at the top floor. It had to be the top - there was no more stairs. The rooftop must be blocked off. Not pausing to look, he tore down the decorated hallway toward number seventeen…

Not her. First him, then- 

Now her.

He would not lose another-

He would not!

It was immediately obvious that the group of invading robots were not expecting help to arrive. Neither were they expecting that help to come crashing through solid wooden doors. Turning their surprise to his advantage, Sonic attacked ferociously, moving before they could decide on what to do. His moves were blurred; kicks and spins flashing up to a pace of unbound fury.__

He was snarling.__

It was because of them and their kind - all Robotnik's kind that he was forced to fight. To live in the shadows of a forest. Struggling for the thing inherent to every living creature by right.

Freedom.

To anyone watching the battle, he might very well have been some thing maddened - or possessed.

It was because of them that people lost their free will, their right to choose. Their lives. 

Those… things… abominations.

Sonic's strength was well above average, but his speed lent him a diabolic force behind every strike. His fists may was well have been jackhammers.

It was because of them- 

Sonic struck at one, then wove out of sight, ducked beneath the laser fire, then countered, landing a blow. And again. Then the rhythm would change, the beat would move faster. His feet hardly touched the ground.

It was because of them- 

The tempo of the dance flashed all the way up to a demonic speed. Chairs were cast aside, something shattered as metal smashed into glass. A vase. Water spilled, wood broke, blood rushed… And every landed blow was a release for Sonic. He had waited and held off for what seemed like centuries. And for once the pain to his own fists as they pounded through metal was sweeter than the sight of the bruised alloy.

It was because of them- 

They were just automatons. They had no consciousness, no sense of being or existing. No soul. In that sense, they were not alive. 

Sonic wanted to kill them anyway. 

And then the instant passed, and the hedgehog found himself standing amid a pile of smoking rubble, slightly dazed that it was over - and they were gone.

He was gone… 

Pain darkened eyes focused briefly on the smashed-in metal head in his hands. With a grimace, he flung the offending thing away.

No more.

Just like that.

The battle had lasted no longer than a few heartbeats. He was not even out of breath. Still silently raging, Sonic turned. Only then did the original reason for his urgency come back to him, and his eyes darted around the devastated room in alarm. Broken glass, shattered chairs, wood from his own battle… The walls were scarred with laser fire and still smoking. 

His eyes were drawn to the pile of trampled roses on the floor, of his own making. The red petals were mashed into a pulp on the hardwood planking. They looked like bloodstains. Sonic felt something inside him begin to crack. A sharp reflection to the shards of broken glass littered around him.

He was too late. She was gone-

All over again….

Then, the shredded couch moved, and after a moment, overturned. Amy Rose stood from a crouch on unsteady feet. Her eyes too, drifted to the broken vase, darkened floor, and bloody rose petals. 

She looked older than Sonic remembered. She '_was_' older then he had last seen her. Soft spines framed her face, swinging with every movement of her head. She lifted a hand to sweep a stray hair from her eyes. They were a striking green. It was a different shade to his own - very close - but still different. Her fur was a pale rose. Sonic called it 'pink', but as he remembered, Amy preferred the title of '_rose_' better. __

She had changed. It was something more than her gained height, or the curves on her slender frame that had not been present on their last meeting. 

It was something else.

Her hand strayed to the couch as she moved around it slowly. Broken glass crunched underfoot. Sonic stepped forward to meet her, holding out a gloved had.

"Come on, Amy, before this whole place goes up in flames."

Her gaze flitted to him, then away. And then, ignoring his upturned palm, she knelt next to the shattered vase. At a loss, Sonic dropped his hand slowly, keeping his eyes on her. 

"Amy…"

Slim fingers caught a battered rose and almost reverently, Amy lifted it. Frowning, Sonic tried again, "Amy, didn't you hear me? I said we have to-"

"_Get out_," she said in a fierce whisper. Sonic's eyes jerked to her face, startled. Her words finished his sentence for him, but their tone; their tone was wrong. So wrong. Unfamiliar. __

And then Sonic realized. 

Her eyes.

It was her eyes.

Sonic had never been the romantic type. He tended to brush over the finer points of romanticism. Gush and mush had never been his strong point. But the image of Amy's eyes came to him again, even as her gaze burned him once more. Like jewels. Strange, hard and foreign. Cold. 

Hate. He could see it as though her eyes whispered the word into the silence. 

There had been no elated exclamation of surprise at his rescue. No breathless look of adoration. No suffocating embrace once the battle was won. Nothing. Save two simple words, hard, but not harder than the image of those eyes.

Those eyes that were still glaring at Sonic with burning resentment, narrowed in their intensity. It was a familiar sensation. It reminded him of that near fatal encounter as he had reached out a helping hand to the Guardian - only to have it slashed at. Instinctively, but not knowing why, Sonic found himself taking a step back. There was no triumph to Amy's expression at her strange victory. Instead her face twisted with open emotion.

"You're just like them," she spat, "You're all the same!"

The frayed rose shook in her hands as she shot to her feet, it's head bent over as though in mourning. Sonic tensed, the confusion and disquiet rushing through him intensifying with each heartbeat. In a powerless gesture, he spread his hands in supplication, stumbling over his words. 

"What're-" he stopped, then helplessly, tried again,  "Amy-"

"I saw you." she whispered, her voice straining as though she could hardly force the words out. She was trembling. "I saw you!" she cried.

Sonic's heart quickened at the accusation. He fell still, shocked into silence, his body still with sudden anguish - and understanding. Her hand lifted, and, trembling, she pointed. Her fingertip held all the piercing bite of the sharpest blade for Sonic.

"You enjoyed it! You-"

Her words were cut off as a barrage of bullets ripped through the balcony doors in a cacophony of sound. Thoughts and shock discarded, Sonic shot forward, leaping toward the smaller hedgehog. He knocked her to the ground without a sound, rolled, and pinned her beneath him, ignoring her fury. She shoved at him, but he was stronger, and older; the gesture was futile. Amy had no hope. 

The rose lay where it had fallen, forgotten. Crushed beneath their combined weight. __

"Let me up!" she hissed. She was furious, but Sonic refused to budge. Instead he caught up her beating fists in his own hands and held them to his chest. Amy's sound of protest was cut short by his own retort. 

"Listen to me! I don't know what the hell your problem is, and I don't care!" He punctuated his words by pinning her arms over her head and glaring at her, suddenly furious himself. __

"Trust me!" he demanded, "Now! Work with me here, or neither of us will make it out alive!"

Her expression did not change.

Taking a surreptitious breath to steady himself, Sonic held on to his frayed nerves, reigning the temper in, the one that wanted to snatch Amy up and throw her over his shoulder, protests be damned. But that was too dangerous. And the distant flames sounded suddenly so much louder than they had been minutes before.

"Do you want to die?" he tried again, after he was certain he could continue sounding impartial.

"Of course not!-"

"You will if you keep this up."

Her look was anguished. A strangled sob tore itself from her throat. She shook her head in denial, but she no longer struggled against him. With a silent sigh, Sonic relaxed against her, for a moment laying his head on her shoulder in relief. 

Soft fur… She was warm. And she smelled of roses. __

"I'm your only ticket outta here," he murmured against her ear. "Whether you like it or not."

Silence once more and still trembling, with anger or hate or fear, he did not know. But she gave him a reluctant nod.

His sigh of relief was audible, even to her. But Sonic did not care. Hauling himself to his feet, Amy in tow, he took a good look at his surroundings with a clearer head for the first time. A group of robots thundered their way into the room from the deserted hallway as he did so, blocking their exit and aiming their large chaingun-like weapons at Sonic and Amy. Beyond the robots, there was a tearing sound, followed by an abrupt roaring from the hallway. Then the machines were illuminated in flickering hues of orange and red.

Fire - then Robots…

Sonic surmised they were not the rescue party.

Spherical bodies and shoulders, their heads were small and protected by their larger torso's. They almost looked like the old ZTA models, or Eggrobo's as Sonic called them. Almost. If one did not take into account the hideously twisted spikes that adorned their shoulders and heads. Though the hatefully glowing eyes had not changed. Mirroring their creator.

Sonic had to admit; Robotnik had grown quite a creative streak in recent years. The hedgehog had to give him points on inventiveness at least. 

He eyed the guns apprehensively as the machines shuffled closer.  

And the madman at least had them well prepared…

Sonic gave a mental groan - he hated guns. His eyes darted over the room like quicksilver. No time to fight. No room to fight. Not if he wanted to protect Amy. He wanted to protect Amy. He had to protect Amy. Exit blocked. Guns.

Retreat…? 

The hedgehog gave a glance behind him. Walls… windows… a balcony… with the ground, hundreds of feel below them.__

In an instant, Sonic made his decision.

"Moment of truth," he muttered. He turned back to Amy, and louder, "Do you trust me?" 

He hoped she heard him over the roar of the not-too-distant-flames.

No answer, just hopeless hesitation. She did not. She hated him, he saw it in her eyes. Sonic gritted his teeth. The robot's trigger fingers tightened on their weapons.

"Amy!"

There were tears in her eyes.

"Will you let me help you?!"

It would have to be enough. Trust would have to wait. For the moment cooperation would do. Amy's lips parted slowly. __

"Yes."

And then the air was filled with the roar of gunfire.

*****

The fox clasped at the blue-gray mug in her hands, dividing her attention for an instant between the twin-tailed companion next to her, and the turmoil before her. Though in the end, it was the spicy aroma of the mug that won her favor.  The heat of the liquid had warmed the ceramics, and that in turn warmed her hands so that they no longer ached with each separating joint. Rowan leaned forward a little, bringing the swirling contents up and sniffed the rich hint of it's contents. It's heat gave her an excuse to be cautious in drinking it -  the night was cold… She also had no idea what it was, so regarded it a trifle warily - as did she the fox by her side. 

But Tails's concentration was also fixed on the burning building.

"Thank you," she muttered, before taking a sip. The kitsune barely blinked an eyelid her way. He did throw her a half-hearted nod though. But she could not blame him for his distraction.

She had quickly wearied of the blaze. The flames hurt her eyes and she blinked sleepily, trying to muster herself back up to full alertness. But she was exhausted, despite all that had happened, and all that was still happening. The heat seeped into her bones, and with that heat came relaxation.

Then there was that steady beat…

Rowan blinked - and then glanced down. Tails was tapping his left foot impatiently. 

Her eyes lifted again, and at the second look to his face, she wondered how he could stay so still. He was as taunt as a bow-string. Every sinew was singing - she could see him holding himself back. The fire cast dancing patterns of light and shadow across his face and fur. His tails flicked back and forth behind him unconsciously. He looked nothing like the carefree young Freedom Fighter he was supposed to be in that instant. At least, not how she had imagined him to be.

On impulse, she hugged the blanket tighter around herself. Again, this was not from the cold - though the night was freezing - but rather for the comfort. It was a shelter - however meager - in the long night. The situation was too surreal to her to be real. Perhaps in the morning, by dawn's light or daylight, she could finally believe. She did not want to. Station Square was past all of the chaos. It was finally healing, rebuilding in the ruins. She did not want more of the violence. She knew Amy did not either…

She clenched her eyes shut in sudden desperation.

Amy….

Again, it was a noise from Tails that brought her back to focus. A soft, frustrated tone that sounded almost like a growl. He had walked a little distance from her, and was on his way to pacing back. Uncertain of herself, Rowan coughed to get his attention.

Not even a flicker.

She coughed again, louder.

Nothing. He was still pacing though, and getting closer…

Abandoning subtlety, she grabbed his arm. Tails jumped with a startled yelp. Then he glared at her - and at the mug of cooling liquid she was offering him.

"Keep it," he said shortly.

So, she pulled it back to her, but did not lessen her grip of his arm. He continued to glare at her a moment longer. It was a fierce look for someone so young. She guessed he must only have been in his teens - fifteen or sixteen at most - but that look… It did not sit well with her. It was too intense for such a youthful face. 

Eventually, when he must have realized that she was not about to release him, his glare transformed into a frown; and then into a scowl as he noticed Rowan eyeing his double-tails.

"I'd use them," he told her, "But between the smoke and the darkness…"

He trailed off, leaving his sense of futility unsaid. Rowan suddenly understood; It must be tormenting him… Standing there, useless, unable to follow his comrade into the mire.

She let him go.

Muteness between them, turbulence around them.

Then; "How did you find me?"

Rowan cast him a half-glare of her own. He was looking away, fire dancing in his eyes, in a combination of azure and crimson that for an instant matched her own odd eyes. But his were only a reflection from the inferno before them. 

"How many two-tailed foxes do you know?" she cut back sharply.

Tails had the grace to looked sheepish, despite himself. He shrugged.

"Never mind," was all he said.

Then she watched him settle on a certain resolve as he tore his gaze from the pyre again and fixed it on her. It was almost… timid…  

"I didn't know why he went in…" he explained quietly. Apologetic. "I-"

She cut him off quickly.

"I know. I guessed. You looked spooked."

That scowl again. He folded his arms, and for the first time since their encounter, he looked his age. Just a kid,  full of righteous indignation, out to prove a point. She almost smiled.

"Wouldn't you?!" he snapped.

Reigning in her sudden mirth, and thinking how unsuitable it was, she nodded appropriately.

"Of course."

Slightly mollified at that, he gave a small sniff. His look softened.

"Well…" he amended, "Thanks."

A that, Rowan did smile. A very tiny smile, just a curve of lips really. But it was a smile nevertheless. She tilted her head in a manner she knew infuriated some people.

"We're even."

He looked at her. She held up the mug and shouldered the blanket. His own mouth twitched suspiciously.

It was the sudden eruption of fire on the topmost floor that brought both of them to a horrified halt. The flames were licking at the sky, even as the fire-service robots swarmed around them as ineffectual as bees, trying to bring the blaze back under control.  

Rowan's hot drink lay shattered on the ground beneath her, forgotten. Her hands covered her mouth as sudden terror washed over her. 

"Oh God…." A whisper, soft and panic-stricken.  "They'll never get out."

Tails' expression was hard. He looked older than he should, and almost weary. But his voice was strong and steady.

"He's Sonic the Hedgehog," he established grimly, "He always gets out."

His tone held no boast. Tails said the words plainly, simply, as though they were pure fact, and nothing more. But Rowan heard the hint of bitterness - or was it regret - and wondered.

Her heart twisted in her at the thought of the blazing inferno rising into the night. The skyline was only smoke, and though the fire was on it's way to being put out, the top floors were engulfed in flames. Her apartment was up there… Hers an Amy's.

She had not known her very long. Two years. Bearing in mind her lifetime - ten years more than Amy's-  Rowan considered two years as short time. But Amy was still a friend. The hedgehog was one of those people who could listen, and not judge. Yes, she was outspoken at times, but her cheerful attitude made those around her forgive her nearly instantly for anything blurted out of line.__

To put it simply; Amy Rose was different. 

The desert fox had known that from the instant she had seen her. It was not especially obvious, only that she had first met Amy in her restaurant, breaking the hedgehog out of a day-dream. She did that a lot.

It had not taken them long to strike up a friendship. And it had not taken long for her to discover that Amy's dreams - day or night - were more than just dreams. If she ever had the nerve to say it, Rowan could confess that Amy's 'talent' frightened her more than just a little. 

Dreams were one thing, but premonitions? 

Even thing's simpler than that. Something as plain as the hedgehog reaching out to correct a toppling glass; just as Rowan's hand collided with it - never even raising her eyes from the morning paper she happened to be reading. __

Some called it '_second sight'_.

Rowan called it freaky.

Amy did not mind though. The hedgehog knew that her friend was only half-serious. And that Rowan would be there when she needed her, as she had been in times past.

Rowan's mismatched eyes glittered furiously.

"He'd better get her out," she declared in sudden fierceness, "Or I'll flay him. Then I'll hang him from the nearest flagpole and keep his spines as a trophy."

She limped off into the darkness, leaving a blinking Tails standing in her wake.

"That fox has issues," he decided quietly, eyes on her retreating form.

The kitsune shook his head in brief bewilderment. Then he turned his attention back to the commotion. His eyes searched the topmost parts of the building, for something - anything. 

Sonic had gone in, Rowan had told him as much. She had also told him why. And then his concern had doubled. He was young, and he was reminded of this fact often enough. But most people did not take into account that Tails had been fighting almost as long as Sonic, and that he had started younger than the hedgehog.

He was only fifteen, but the fox could not remember a time without Robotnik. His earliest memories were of the forest, a place he regarded as his home more than any other. The Freedom Fighters were his family. Sonic may as well have been his brother. 

Sonic…__

Bright green eyes - they never changed really. They were filled with a certain light that could set others at ease, and that did nothing at all to show the amount of death and pain they had witnessed in the span of his nineteen years. The casual way in which the hedgehog moved belied the energy crackling just beneath the surface, and his often goofy actions cleverly masked the rapid-fire movements of his thoughts.

With an ever ready - and often infuriating - grin and a mouth that could move a mile a minute. Quite often jumping from one subject to another with a speed that left the rest straggling to keep up. And then the sheer irreverence with which he showed royalty, authority, rules, protocol… everything… At times, it was difficult to imagine Sonic as the hope he truly was.

But one in a while - not very often - but now and then, if Tails looked hard enough, fast enough, he would see something that did not appear to belong there. It was a wisdom and intelligence that did not quite seem in jive with the rest of the image Sonic presented. His eyes, they were eyes that seemed far older than the youthful face; eyes that spoke to Tails of things better left unsaid; eyes that someone could drown in if they were not careful.__

But, it was only now and then. Not really often at all.

And it was only if you cared enough to look beyond what you expected to see.

To outside eyes, Sonic looked like an average enough hedgehog. A little flair, some arrogance, a lot of speed. But nothing more. Not really. To most.

Not to Tails.

Perhaps it was because of the life he had lived. As a rebel and a Freedom Fighter, Tails was acutely aware of life. Once, with battle, simpler weapons were used - before lasers. Swords and lances or even maces. Then the battle became ritualized. Opponents circled, seeking openings, risking their lives. It took time, however short.

That was the way Sonic fought. 

Tails half suspected it was because of that simple fact - living. Sonic never said it, but the fox had his suspicions. Sonic fought as an individual - in a group, yes - but still an individual. And as such, he lived each battle intensely. And each victory, each escape, even more so. He valued life, because he knew it's fragility. The hedgehog was aware, as perhaps no other, of the fraction of a heartbeat that separated him from becoming a corpse.

He had lived all his life with weapons, fighting against them. And Sonic hated guns with a vengeance. 

Tails had never seen him use one. Neither did the fox use them willingly… But sometimes, he knew when situations demanded certain aid. He was not afraid to use this 'aid' if necessary. That was the difference between him and Sonic. Tails would be willing to suggest the means, if it would help him gain that freedom he had never experienced.

So, he worried. His foot began to tap out that timeless beat again on the cement ground, and Tails narrowed his eyes.

So much had happened, and in the midst of it all, people seemed to lose sight of what exactly had happened. It was for those few, who had experienced the events, who had lived to tell the tale, that the memory was still vivid for. For Tails, this was especially true. The fox could still smell the burning fires; the stench of melting metal; the hiss and snapping of the engulfing flames. And that last shattering explosion, the one that had ended a chapter in all of their lives, that was a sound he would hear echoing till his dying days. 

They appeared to have forgotten that essentially, it was Tails who had caused Knuckles' death.

But the fox remembered. He would always hold the blame. Sonic did, Sally did, everyone did in their own way. But it was Tails who knew his to be truth. He had deserted. He had chosen; an impossible choice. But still, he had chosen; return or no.

And Knuckles paid the price.

He would never forget.

In that final farewell, Knuckles knew he would not return. Tails knew he could not. But he had hoped… But hope was useless sometimes, it was not enough to hope. He understood that at last, knowing it was learned too late, but learned nevertheless. And learned well. And the echidna held no blame towards him. He had seen that too in the somber nod, eyes steady and noble as always.

Knuckles had known he was going to die. 

Perhaps, Tails had known too. 

Oh, he had cried his share. Tugging a semi unconscious Sonic away from the pyre with blinding tears streaming down his cheeks, blaming it on the choking smoke. But the smoke had cleared eventually, and Tails had still been crying. He did not have enough tears for the sorrow he experienced. Or the guilt. 

There were times when he tried to reason that it was Knuckles who had chosen. He had made  - in part - Tails' judgment. He had struck Sonic down. But beyond that it had been the kitsune's choosing.

In the end it came down to one decision.

Sonic - or - Knuckles.

And because of that, Tails had cried.

But, he also valued that choice. It had been as Knuckles wanted. Yes, he was to blame. But he would be damned if he would live in guilt as Sonic seemed intent on doing. Knuckles wanted them to live - he had given his life so that they could live.

In all that had happened, Sonic seemed to have lost sight of that.

Of course, Sonic's value of life itself, had risen several notches. Especially after… But now, where he was, Tails was afraid that the hedgehog would put himself in danger - Amy too - in order to get them out of the danger. __

Using any means necessary…

_*****_

To Be Continued… 

**_*****_**

Right… There's some info in this chapter, which I'm sure some querulous fans out there will get all hoity-toity about.

Right.

I never pay attention to age differences in the games; books; comics - whatever. This is AU. So, same rule applies here. 

Don't like it?

Go elsewhere.

_*Sigh_*

Since there was some information in this chapter about ages - for those who 'are' curious; here you go… Basically, Tails is fifteen in this. Amy is sixteen. I don't usually bother disclosing the ages I have the characters, but I have them older here, so I decided to make an exception… Um, Rowan is twenty-five. (Yeah, I know - old!)

Sonic is nineteen. Sally's not far off… 

Guess how old Knuckles is.. go on… Guess…

……….

Eighteen!

ROTFLMAO! ^_________^

_Knuckles_: What!? You made me younger than Sonic!? Younger!? Are you insane!?"

_Sonic_; She's writing this, isn't she?"

_Knuckles_; O__o "Oh, yeah…" *_Pauses and looks despairing_*  "But still… Younger?!"

_Sonic_; ^___^ "I think it's kinda cool… You're always older than me."

_Knuckles_; "That's because I am!" *_Sighs then perks up_* "Well, I'm more mature either way…"

_Sonic;_ "No way!"

_Knuckles_: Yeah way- waitaminute…*_Glares_* I will not digress into a petty argument with you. Everyone knows I'm too mature."

_Sonic_; "Again - No way!"

_Knuckles_; ¬__¬ "I rest my case."

Orin; "Do you mind?

_Sonic_; ^__^ "Nope."

_Knuckles_; ^____^ "Not at all."

_Orin_; *_Sigh_* "This is AU people… Alternate Universe. Meaning I am GOD!… *_Clears her throat_* And I made you younger, because I wanted to highlight your maturity-"

_Knuckles_; "Hah!" *_Points at Sonic and laughs_* "Told you!"

_Sonic_; ¬___¬ "Oh yeah, Red… Reeeal mature."

_Knuckles_; -___-;; "Shut up."

_Orin_; *_Growls_* "AND…. *_ahem*_ and…. Your naiveté…  and your sense of duty. How things with you are sometimes out of balance-"

_Sonic_; *Chuckling* "See, Red. Not only are you naive, but you're also out of balance…"

_Knuckles_; "Thin ice, hedgehog… You're threading on very thin ice here…."

_Sonic_; "Ohhh… I'm scared… Look! *_does a little dance_* This is me being scared."

_Orin_; *_Staring_* I give up."

Knuckles; O___o "You… do?"

Sonic; o_____O *_Stops dancing and looks hopeful_* "Then… we can… go..?"

_Orin;_ "NO!"

_Sonic _and Knuckles; *Sigh*

**_*_**_Silence as Orin stomps off to post the fic*****_

_Sonic_; "Well… It was worth a try."

_Knuckles_; "Yeah. Maybe next time, huh?"

_Sonic; *Sigh_* "You wish!"

Orin; O______o;; "Sometimes I wonder 'bout those two…You'd think any promotion would be good..."

Anyway. Yes; I'm back. I have no idea how long this'll be for though, or if I'll continue this series to it's end. Maybe I just needed the break to find out exactly 'why' I was writing in the first place.

For me.

I started writing as an exercise, just to pass the time, waaay back before I ever knew Archie existed - since I grew up with the Fleetway version of Sonic all my early stories were based on that, rather than the SatAM version - which I adored incidentally.

But I'm getting off track. Like I did with this writing thing.  

But now it's back to me. I'm writing for me now, no one else. (I've explained this a little more in the most recent fic posted after my break - Live and Learn - so you can go there if you're curious….) Or  you can gripe and whine as you will. It's not going to change from now on. And it's important that I can take this fic at my own pace too…  So threats won't help. Encouragement is nice of course; I love it! Who doesn't? Write away…It's nice to hear from someone who actually reads this stuff. Lol!

But really, I'm posting this stuff, in the off chance that someone actually takes the time out to read it, and -heaven forbid - actually thinks it's okay…

But, let me breathe…

Please?

Take care,

Orin.


	4. Vertigo

Disclaimers; I don't own Sonic, he belongs to Sega, and I'd imagine I should not be writing this… But… *Shrugs*__

_Orin; *Waves* "Hi to everyone reading this - and thanks for taking the time out to. ^__^ Makes writing it worthwhile."_

_Sonic; *Looking skeptical* "That remains to be seen…"_

_Orin; "Oh, hush you!"_

_Knuckles; "Is she sucking up to the readers again?"_

_Orin; "Hey!"_

_Sonic; *Nodding* "Yup."_

_Knuckles; "I'll never understand why they do that…"_

_Sonic; I know. I mean, you're either gonna read it - or not." *Frowning* "Hopefully not, in this case…"_

_Orin; "Again - Hey!"_

_Knuckles; "I dunno… Things start to pick up in this chapter."_

_Orin; "Hmph. You're just happy because-"_

_Sonic; *Clamps a hand over Orin's mouth* "Shh! Can we say ' Spoiler'?"_

_Orin; *Removing Sonic's hand, somewhat chagrined* "Oops…"_

_Knuckles; *Rolling his eyes* "Humans…"_

_Orin; *Sigh* "Anyway. Thank you *Glares at Sonic and Knuckles* ALL for taking the time out to read this fic, and for those who have sent me encouragement, both through E-mail and through reviews… _

_It helps remind me why I'm writing this. For me - yes… But then I could just keep it to myself… Someone out there must want to read it as well. And I for one, am glad you do._

_Thanks._

_Sonic; ¬___¬  "Are you done now…?"_

_Orin; *Glare*_

A special thank you to some other wonderful writers of Sonic fiction - and not. When I have the time to catch up on these guys' work… They'll be the first for me to look up…

**Thalia Rockchick - STC writer, one of the few, she's amazing her ideas remain true to the comic, the girl has excellent taste - I mean a Shadow and a Super Sonic fan? - Not to mention the fact that she's an amazing artist as well… **

**Latifah 27 - a girl whose encouragement is boundless, who's this amazing friend that's kept me going when I've wanted to give up, and who's even done an AU of one of my fics… Go. Now. Read.**

**Sean Catlett - I'm always rendered speechless upon reading his work. There's no apt description to do this guy justice. You just have to read yourself.  Trust me on this…**

**Anthony Bault -  A truly original writer, one of those guys who's works always make me kick myself after and ask ' Now why didn't I think of that?' ^_^ Talented guy this, and loads of amazing ideas in the making…**

**Stephen Zacharus - An amazing dark-fic writer (At least I think so) Putting characters in situations to take them to a whole new level… Frightens me frequently… (That's a good thing)**

WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.

**Chapter 4.**

**_Vertigo._**

*****__

_It's not like you to say sorry,_

_I was waiting on a different story,_

_This time I'm mistaken,_

_For handing you a heart worth breaking…_

_- Nickleback , How You Remind Me._

*****

"Yes."

Amy's consent was all Sonic needed to hear. 

The robots opened fire as the hedgehog darted to her, grabbing her hand, sweeping her feet from under her, taking her into his arms - then crashing through the window next to the balcony.

For Amy, time, and her heart seemed to have halted as the cobalt hedgehog swung her into his arms. Where once it would have done so because it was Sonic, and it was Sonic that was holding her so tightly, looking so much like the hero that everyone said he was - to Amy, at that instant,  time halted only because she was so afraid.

Terrified…

The sound of shattering glass that echoed in her ears; the feeling of the haphazard shards against her skin - though there was no blood drawn - and then the blast of cool night air hitting her face, causing her to blink back the tears it brought with it. And lastly, the sensation of sickening weightlessness as her world tilted and spun in every conceivable direction. 

Time started and Amy realized then that they were no longer in her apartment, and that the blinking lights of her city were sprawled out far, far below them.

And they were falling.

Her mouth opened, and Amy tried to scream her terror to Sonic - to the night air - to anyone who could hear her horror. But she could not. It rose up in her throat but she could not voice it. It would not come. Instead it remained nestled in her chest, next to her fluttering heartbeat. Amy was too afraid to let it go. Maybe in screaming, the whole implausibility of the situation would become real, and then she really would be falling from a skyscraper building, the air stealing breath from her lungs, with only the sight of the dizzying lights far below to bring her any reality of what was happening. And that it was happening.

Sonic's feet came into contact with the side of the building the moment Amy realized they were falling.

Clutching her tighter to him, he narrowed his eyes, partly against the wind that threatened to blind him, and partly in determination. The resolution to survive was undeniable in the emerald depths; to keep his grip on the hedgehog in his arms; the resolution that had kept Sonic alive for nineteen years; and that would save them both against all odds. 

Reckless? It could be called that. Life-saving, most certainly.

His feet darted across the mortar, not seeking purchase but looking for control. To try and slow down would be to kill them both, Sonic knew this on instinct, just as he knew how to run with his fall. And besides, it was not his first time for darting down the side of a two-hundred story building. It would not be the last. 

His speed had to be maintained, and more importantly, Sonic had to be the one in control of it. The instant he lost that, it would become nothing more than a running free-fall. He would not be able to touch down. They would be crushed on impact. 

He had to work with gravity, not against it.

The hedgehog leapt lightly over a window ledge, wider than most, felt Amy's heart jump against her chest, then his feet came in contact with the edifice once more.

Control.

His lips parted to a triumphant grin. He even risked a glance at his passenger.  

Amy's eyes were sealed shut, and a part of Sonic wanted to shout to her to open them, and that she was missing the ride of her life. But then the memory of the hate he had seen rose again, and so Sonic only tightened his grip. His grin faded. Instead he concentrated on keeping him and Amy alive. In control he may have been, but the danger was not over yet.

Amy forced her eyes to open a stint, darting a terrified glance at her unwanted savior. Moonlight and lamplight gleamed across Sonic's smooth spines. Despite the danger, and the whole absurdity of it, Amy noted he looked older to her than when she had last seen him. Time, or…. Something else, had added something indefinable to his face. His eyes were still green, pupils dilated, perhaps in excitement.

Only Sonic could find running to ones imminent death exciting…

Because he were doing just that. Running.

Amy blinked, glancing down. Feet, a blur, but there was definitely contact there…

_How had he managed that?_

She frowned, looked back up. They had been falling, she had felt it, she had felt it before and Amy knew that floating sensation. And he had not let her go. He had been falling… just like her. Sonic had not let her go. His hold on her was strong, confident, and it was secure. He was not afraid.  

And he had not let go.

Amy could not deny the feeling that caused to grow in her. She did not know how he had done it, or how he would keep them safe with the ground rushing up to greet them, but even at those thoughts, the strange feeling of safety did not dispel. 

So the pale hedgehog closed her eyes and tried to trust Sonic to get them down. She owed him that, if nothing else. 

Moments later, Amy felt the world tilt once more, and on instinct she clutched Sonic tighter. Then, the breeze died down, and the sensation of super-speed ceased. She opened her eyes cautiously. Sonic's gaze was still ahead, and she followed it. 

Her home… It was gone.

The fire was out, and how the fire-fighting bots had managed that, Amy did not know. But it had not been enough to save the topmost floors - and her apartment with them. A gaping, empty hole settled inside her at that. Everything she had. Everything she had worked for, and all those memories… Just ashes on the wind.

But she was alive. At it counted for something.

She had been saved. Again. 

She should not resent that; she was alive, and it was all that mattered when all was said and done - but she resented Sonic anyway. Her hard won independence had just been made a mockery of, whether Sonic was aware of that or not. He had saved her, as he had always been forced to do in the past, because, as usual, Amy could not save herself-

Then, Amy had to blink once more.

She looked down.

Solid ground. Flat, horizontal, you-can-stand-up-on, solid ground…

Another blink.

How Sonic had reached the terra-firma without harm, she did not know. His touchdown onto the pavement had been as light as a feather, the only indication was the strange tilting sensation she had felt, and that was it. He had known exactly what he had been doing. 

The resentment surged within her again, and with a shove, Amy pushed herself out of Sonic's arms. Green eyes locked with her own at that, as Amy tired to steady herself without reaching for Sonic's aid. Her legs felt positively weak… Amy stumbled - and felt Sonic catch her again.

Her heart was still racing, and the steady pulse of Sonic's own heart was a disconcerting discord against it. How calm he was… despite everything that had just happened. How warm…

"Let go of me," she muttered. But she did not glare at him. She did not even look at him.

"I will," his reply was low, soft, dangerous. "As soon as you learn to stand again."

Still brazen. And now that the danger had passed, his voice was bordering on that familiar scornful tone she knew so well. She gave an ineffectual push against him, knowing it was too weak, and not surprised when Sonic did not move. 

Silence after that, save for Amy's harsh breaths. She did not push him again and Sonic let out a startled gasp when she sagged against him instead. 

The hedgehog reached down with a hand in panic, checking her heartbeat, and then tilting her face towards his own. Heart; steady, if a little fast; breathing still rapid, but slowing.

Shock, he decided. She was unhurt. She had…

Fainted…

With a wry twist to his mouth, Sonic lifted her limp form again. She was just as light in his arms as she had always been. She had hardly grown taller at all, he realized. Perhaps Amy would always be petite. It suited her anyhow..

He shook his head. 

What next…

The hospital would be his best bet. Tails probably headed that way, and Amy's friend was undoubtedly there was well…

_"Robotnik sent hose robots, you know that."_

"I know," Sonic nodded. Then he started. 

"Wha-"

He whirled about, and then turned again when his eyes only met with a empty street. Mild alarm caused his breath to quicken as he held Amy closer to him, his eyes searching frantically the shadows and night.

How familiar. 

Then Sonic relaxed suddenly. Why did all the voices in his head nagging him always sound like people he knew? The critical voice for Sally, the cheerful grin for Tails, the firm reminder for…

_No._

He took a deep breath.

His imagination and adrenaline were still on overdrive. His heart was racing, faster than it had been when there had been nothing before him but uncertainty and the hard ground, far below - So much so that even his thoughts sounded suddenly loud to him…

"Okay," he muttered, "Get a grip, Sonic. There are _no voices in the night here…"_

He shook his head again. His next comment was filled with self-derision.

"And I have _got to stop talking to myself…"_

But Robotnik had sent those robots. They had been there with the intent of taking or harming Amy.  He gazed absently at the unconscious hedgehog still cradled in his arms. She twisted, frowning, dreaming.

He could not leave her at a hospital. She was still in danger. As long as Robotnik was out there, and after her, she would be so. Leaving her in a ward full of injured or sick people made the situation only worse, as well as the fact that Sonic could not keep an eye on her, there were patients, some immobile, and all in danger if more robots were sent for Amy.

He could not take her there.

Sonic sighed quietly to himself and began to walk.

That left his apartment, and Amy would not like it. Still, it was the best place for her, and he would be there, and he could keep her safe. Amy made a soft noise of disapproval in his arms, as though hearing his thoughts. Sonic eyed her expression carefully. It was… tormented.  Her entire frame was tight, tense.

She was dreaming.

He could not wake her, and it was easier on him if she slept anyway. 

The hedgehog broke into a light smooth run, disappearing in a few seconds, heading for home.

Which was why Sonic never saw the scarlet form dislodge himself from the second story of a nearby building and drop effortlessly to the ground, then walk casually, eyeing the smoking remains of Amy's apartment high above him.

His eyes narrowed, calculating and thoughtful as they moved down the entirety of the high-rise apartments. Deep, violet eyes. He studied the area for a few minutes more. Still contemplative.

He turned then, reflection complete, facing the same direction that the hedgehog had disappeared to minutes before. The dim streetlights made the crescent mark on his neck appear a golden yellow instead of its usual pristine white.

"Good move, hedgehog," he murmured. There was quiet admiration in his voice. "On both accounts."

A slip of moonlight caught his face, revealing the faded scar ran down the right side. To anyone who had seen Sonic earlier, this one would seem to be a mirror image.  Brows drew together, more in surprise than any displeasure. Another cool breeze rose in the street, bringing with it the scent of smoke and ash, catching the echidna's long headspines, tossing them about his face. But he paid no attention, still intent on the vanished hedgehog. 

Sonic would have figured out what to do either way. He had not needed prompting…

But Knuckles had prompted anyway. Sonic was his friend. Sonic believed he was not dead…

Sonic could help him.

The former Guardian lifted his head and breathed deeply of the night air, once. The smell of distant water and salt was still overshadowed by the sharp sting of smoke. He could not hear the crackle of distant flames, they too were gone. If he concentrated hard, he could almost imagine their heat…

Then his eyes shot open again, and Knuckles' gaze was drawn skyward. There was an air of patience about him that could not be missed.

An involuntary frown crossed his face as he searched the heavens. 

"_There's a storm coming…"_

And with that, Knuckles turned, vanishing into the night once more.

*****__

_Elsewhere Amy dreamed…_

*****

Sometimes she wondered if she had really changed at all. Time had passed to be sure. Not all that much. In the grand scheme of things not even an instant. But in a lifetime… As a part of her lifetime.

Everything around her changed after Chaos; the only constant had been Sonic, her hero. Once. But that had been before Chaos, before the drowning, or the tidal wave.

She would look to herself, and sometimes Amy felt just the same.

No.

She took that back.

She had watched the stars as a child, alone, or sometimes with her father, and they had always been a constant. Or so they seemed. But Amy had been a child then, knowing nothing of the speed of light or sound, or time and how it worked.

How was she to know that so many of those stars she had wished upon had not died before her birth?

There was no way of knowing.

Just as there had been no way to know if she was to die in her apartment, in the flames, or by the bullet and laser fire of Robotniks robots. As she had no way of knowing that her would-be savior was on his way with her life in mind…

_"I can't be your savior. I can't!"_

Grief. And fury that lent an edge to her tone, but mostly grief. Because she was tired, because she had once believed his heart was only for her, and because a part of her had never really been surprised at all.

_"I need you."_

Breaking the not-silence already flooded with broken things. She could see him, scar and all, eyes caught, emerald and strong, childish and selfish still, and sad. So sad…

Her hero.

_"I know," her own voice. Her own eyes starting to sting with more than the rain sluicing and splatting gently against the windowpane, against her upturned face, __"I know."_

Rain was common enough in Station Square, despite being so close to the sea. Water still overpowered sun there. But in winter the colors of the day would always be grey, and Amy would step through them as if to avoid letting them cling to and soften the sharp black of her coat. She would walk and go nowhere in particular.

She would think occasionally of the rain, but rarely let it touch her…

All water was related she knew. The water in the flesh and bones of your fingers would welcome the water of rainfall when you reach your hand out to it. It remembered…

_"I don't remember my parents."_

_"You're lucky."_

A sharp look, violet eyes darkened with concealed pain at the remark.

Soft, but still steely, _"Really? How so? Tell me how it is I'm the fortunate one here? The one who'll never understand what it's like to know his parents…?"_

A wince, scar twisting slightly, but no longer stinging. Not any more. Contrite. Apologetic. But still forceful, always headstrong, always willing to make his stand.

_"I meant… I - Sometimes… It's easier not to remember."_

The air cleared with that, the tension began to seep away with his explanation. Shared pain. It was shared, and it was eased. 

_"I would prefer to have the memory."_

Emerald and amethyst met, understanding passed, argument recognized. Allowed. Needed. Friend and friend. Hedgehog and echidna.

_"I'd rather forget."_

He had forgotten much, and Amy did not blame him. He was… a hero. A hero whose lips she dreamed to dream of. Once. Or still.

She hated to admit the emptiness she still felt at times, even to herself. She had always imagined she would grow accustomed to it in time. She had gone years without seeing him, and the burning had never lessened. She would see someone, even vaguely similar to him, and her heart would leap before she would realize it could not be him. Too short, not the same shade of blue, eyes brown, not green, and a thousand other differences. 

Obsession is not a pretty thing…

If she could call it that. But she did not love him, not anymore. Maybe she had never loved him. He had called it a childish crush, and perhaps he had been right. 

But there he stood - her obsession. In her apartment, amid chaos and broken glass and shattered dreams. Standing there, eyes alight with… What?

Joy?

Hate?

_Need?_

And for what? Peace? His eyes would never light up like that had be been a peace broker, an ambassador for repose. She could never imagine him sitting for hours on end, debating quietly, logically, when his heart, and his spirit only wanted to run…

And that left only battle. All that remained then was the fury of the fight, and the thrill of the chase and the hunt. The tempo and dance of fist against steel - or flesh, and the racing rush that came with it.  All that remained then was death.

What did that make him?

What was her hero then?

_"I'm not a hero. I was never a hero. You know that."_

The wind tossed her hair about her face, blinking sapphire eyes as she looked at his green ones.

_"You saved them. You saved all of them. That's not heroic?"_

That critical voice soft, a reminder, pushing gently, trying to avoid more pain. Impossible.

_"That's life. I can run, run fast. It's what I do. If someone else could, then they'd be doing this too."_

And the shrug, as though it was nothing. It was out of place, not in sync with who he was- had been once.

_"You risk your life."_

More derision. More familiar.

_"You risk your life every time you cross the road, Sal. What's the difference?"_

Ah. Firmer then, perhaps pushing just a little.

_"The difference is you. That you don't have to. But you do."_

And finally the crux. In the end it all came to that…

_"I can't save you though… So it doesn't matter, does it?"_

But it did not matter. And that was the folly of obsession - love. Someday Amy would learn. Someday she would understand and know. Sometimes, still, she would wonder, would there ever be a time when something did not go wrong? It was useless; those dreams of him, smiles she had never seen and words she had never heard….

She could not shut herself off, like the machines Sonic so hated… She could not learn to be alone as Knuckles had spent his life. She would always have to try again, as Sally felt the burden of duty that weighed on her - never giving up. Never having the allowance to…

She was caught in the blood-red pit she had thrown herself into when she fell for him… It was all wrong. Did she dig herself out? Her fingers could crack and ooze from where she would carve wordless screams into immaterial walls with her nails. The extent of her movement: baseless flings, self-destructive only, no pattern, no plot, despite her rage at the futility of it all, escape being not an option… She would not have the strength.

_"You've gotten stronger."_

It was a comment brought forth, not from any admiration of the fact, just because of the fact. Nothing more. There was no emotion in the words. No feeling.

_"I have, and you know it. So, tell me Sonic… How am I being greeted here? Is my welcome that of an acquaintance? A comrade-in-arms?"_

A very slight pause, old wounds reopening under the shadow of the past.

_"Long-lost friend?"_

Another, longer pause, and with it, the ghost of a grin.

_"If so, should I expect poison in my meal? A knife from the shadows… in my back?"_

And the indignation rose, in a face that looked more youthful than was possible for it's years, and in eyes that were older than they ever should be.

_"I'm not the back-stabber here, 'Miles'. Or have you forgotten so soon?"_

Silence. Bitterness swelled, abated, leaving only regret, and so much pain. A chasm of pain, with no way to bridge the growing gap.__

_"How could I, when you remind me?"_

Even, but with hurt, and pain again. And always regret. For someone he would never know as he had right to know. Who hated him more than the once tyrant of Robotropolis.

_"There is no poison. No knife. Sit down."_

Another smirk and it looked so much like one known, the one famous, the one that had green eyes to go with it and long curving cobalt spines and a famous attitude that was world renowned. But it was not. It was someone else.

_"Ah. Then I am not the long lost friend…"_

More silence, and with sudden weariness, an answer.

_"No. Just a child. Always the child."_

Just a child really. That was what they said in the hospital she worked in… She once thought herself wise, but she really had been a child then. She was still too honest though. She knew that. Amy always wondered of she was missing something important. If it was too late.

She was only sixteen after all - soon to be seventeen, must remind - and sometimes she would feel as thought time was running out. Born too late, too soon? Her youth was draining, she could feel it seep away.

And she was still a child. Must not forget. She heard it constantly; when Amy was unwise enough to reveal her age, even as she was pushed into adulthood and responsibility. Too old to be left alone, too young to be treated fairly. And they would sigh, long suffering sighs.

_Poor dear, they would say._

She once wished to be a dancer, but her dancers feet had only been used on missions, or for running, escaping capture. Then she had wanted to sing for a long time, but no one would listen to her even when she spoke. What were the chances of them ever hearing her songs? And then, at last she had wanted to become a famous actress for a little while, reaching to the stars, being one of them, having a chance at something she never had.

But Amy knew too that was what her life had become. A place for yearning. That was the word she used privately. Yearning. It sounded so melodramatic to her. Yearning…

Because it was what she had spent her life doing, when she thought about it…

Yearning…

And dreaming…

Oh… 

She knew this dream…

_"Dreams can be important, you used to say."_

Bitterness upon bitterness and pain, until there was no deciphering which was old and which was new.__

_"No."_

_"No...? They're not?"_

A surprised tone, soft and without mockery. What she would have given to hear that once….__

_"No. No__. Not the pain."_

Said like stone, in a monotony of unfeeling. And the laugh that came after, not from her, but from him, colored the silence with a bright acerbity.

_"That depends on your point-of-view… Sometimes. Sometimes, it's the only thing telling you that you're alive…"_

Silence. Wondering. Needing to know, not wanting to… Noting the scar and the green eyes, always bright. But not always with laughter.

_"What is?"_

And it was there, all around them. Both of them. In the past. Present. It would always be there, even in their future. Together, apart… __

_"The pain."_

She felt it then, burning, ripping through her as she had felt it tear through Knuckles, and her father, and she knew it was not over, it would not be over for a long, long time… 

Sonic had not worn black to Knuckles' funeral - he had not gone. He never had anything to mourn. Ever. Whatever pain might have inspired him was still there, and perhaps he blamed, but he did not mourn.

He would never change.

She would never change. 

It had been snowing outside earlier on in the week. It never snowed there, but it had been, and the sky and the ground had been the same shade of white, just like Sonic's nightmares. The whole world had gone silent….

Amy preferred the rain. She had wished it was raining then. Wished for blood-warm rainwater and blood-soft kisses under waning streetlights in crumbling rain-slick streets. She had wished for passion once. For warmth. Anything to stop being cold, in the winter of her heart. She wanted to melt. She wanted to know what it was to touch fire, as Knuckles had, when it had not killed him…

She needed to know. Anything… 

Anything to feel. She needed to feel something, anything, even if it was the pain of her nightmares.

Some called her cold. Perhaps she was.

He had been cold to her. Sonic. She had wished she could be cold like him. Fire destroys; ice preserves. As much as she wanted the fire - she did not want to go up in flames. She wanted to be safe. She wanted to stop falling.

Amy could not remember the first time she had met Sonic the Hedgehog… But she knew she had stood on the edge of the world that day, and that first step - and she had fallen on that day.

And she had been falling ever since.

_*****_

Amy rolled from the bed with a cry of pain, chasing shadows of fading visions from her mind the only way she knew how - by replacing it with something more substantial. Something that could be felt. 

Her gloves were gone. So, she dug her fingernails into her palms viciously. Felt the ache. Welcomed it.

It all depended on one's point of view…

She winced, pressed her hands to her head, fingernails still embedded in small palms.__

_No._

With effort, she lifted her head. Her eyes opened forcefully, as she made herself wake, see, look. The room was unfamiliar to her… Messy enough, with large windows overseeing the bay, and a guitar in the corner…

She knew that guitar.

_Sonic._

Amy started to her feet.

It began to blur. Her skin burned and her hands shook when she pressed them to her face. Her fingers came away - fur damp, fingernails tinged-red. 

She stared at them with an odd sort of detachment, aware on another level that her entire body had begun to tremble. Why was she crying? She was alive. She was awake. Her home was gone, and her possessions, but those were only material things. She was alive at least. And nothing could change what had happened, least of all weeping.

The door of her - his - room opened.

She knew it was him, and she wanted to tell him to go away. Instead, she said, "It won't stop. I don't know why, it just won't stop-"

Sonic stared at her a moment, and Amy thought she caught a flicker of fear cross his face. Sonic the Hedgehog, Freedom Fighter, Hero of the People, was afraid of something as harmless as a young hedgehogs tears?

It struck Amy as humorous then, and she laughed. 

Only it came out as a strangled half-sob, and it was as if that one single hitch gave permission for more to come, until she was sobbing outright, and unable to stop.

Clutching her stomach, she tried to motion him away. He was witnessing her humiliation, and she doubted he would ever let her forget it. She had lost, proving yet again that she was nothing but a child, needing to be coddled and comforted at every given opportunity - under pressure. Funny, that she should break down so completely at that moment, when the flames and the robots were past, and when by rights there was nothing to fear.

"Damnit Amy," she heard him hiss. A curse - the second she had caused him to utter. Twice now to her memory. How her hero had changed…

"Go away," she ordered him, the words coming out so strangled she could hardly understand them herself.

Sonic had never felt so helpless in his entire life. Amy had broken down so completely, a weeping mess, and he did not know the first thing about offering comfort. He usually avoided it like the plague. It was damned humbling to find he was more terrified of listening to her cry than he had been facing the flaming building. She had done so well, been so calm compared to how she used to be, that Sonic had been certain she could handle it.

It was obvious she couldn't. And a part of him wanted to tease her into stopping, like he used to. But Sonic couldn't say the words. Amy's eyes burned into his memory - hate and fear - and the syllables caught in his throat, unable to be voiced. 

A slender arm reached out hesitantly, touching her shoulder. She jerked away, curling inward and huddling over, falling into a rocking motion that was both pitiful and wrenching to watch.

"Leave me alone!" 

He barely understood her. 

The meaning was clear enough, however, and he wanted nothing more than to obey them. It would not have bothered him in the past - would it? Had it been Sally, Sonic would have been able to walk away, knowing she was strong enough.

His eyes focused on the huddled form.

No.

No, he would not.

So, he took a breath and reached for Amy again, this time tightening his hold when she would have pulled away again.

It was not working. She could not pull herself back together, and Sonic's attempt at comfort was not helping. He was not supposed to care that she was hurting. He had never in the past. He was supposed to tell her how useless she was being, and what a crybaby, and then leave. It was apparent she was far from understanding him. But at that instant, Amy only wanted him to be gone.

But Sonic did not go. Instead, Amy found herself resting in the circle of his arms, pinned between his thighs, her cheek resting beneath his chin.

"Stop fighting me," he muttered tersely, and she felt the muscles in his thin arms tense where she gripped them.

It was stupid of him. She did not want him there, and he was being a fool by not listening. Someone smarter would have taken that and ran. Perhaps her former hero was not as bright as she had believed him to be then, because Sonic was only holding her tighter, as opposed to letting her go. 

But it was still Sonic. She could not let him see her in such a state. But she could feel herself relaxing, turning into the heat of his body, the solid comfort he offered. He was there. She had not asked him to be; he had made his own choice. And Amy did not have to feel guilty for taking advantage of that. She did not…

Exhaustion overtook her in a single move. All the fight drained from her so that she lay limp against him. Unprepared for that, Sonic was almost driven off balance. 

Now what?

The crying had given away to hiccups, and looking down at her, he could see her eyes were closed.

He sighed.

"I told you to go away," she murmured between hiccups.

He sighed again.

"I don't take orders from you, Amy."

No - Sonic would take orders from very few people.

"You're tired."

"I'm not a child, Sonic… I don't know why I cried."

Silence. Then, "I never called you a child, Amy."

He had. In the past. Perhaps he had forgotten. It was only one in a long line of things said to her that she was sure he had forgotten. 

Almost petulant in her lassitude.

"You were thinking it."

It almost made him want to laugh. Out of all the things Sonic had been thinking, that was not one of them.

For Amy, it was a strange surprise to find she felt safe again, in his arms, comforted, and most of all, that she did not want him to leave. She kept waiting for Sonic to make a disparaging comment, or for herself to remember who she was now, where they were, and to push him away.

But neither happened. No rebuke was forthcoming; his arms did not leave her; they lowered her onto the bed, stirring panic. Panic that fled from her only when he settled her against him silently.

His green eyes were dark and unreadable when she lifted her own to meet them.

"Go to sleep. I don't want you to have one of those nightmares of yours and wake everyone up by screaming," he told her roughly.

"I can't," she countered, fighting the heaviness on her eyelids, the lethargy in her limbs. It was not a good idea to sleep with Sonic next to her. Only because he was Sonic, and she didn't trust him - not like she had once.

She didn't even like him.

Not really…

"Be quiet."

She sighed. "I don't like you very much at times, Sonic," she told him, echoing her thoughts sleepily. 

She caught his faint smile at that. It assured her again, like she had been assured when she had first seen him, steeping amid the chaos of her apartment, sure as always, unchanged as ever. And when they had landed safely - and when he had caught her, despite her not wanting to be caught.

Then she started, for the first time noticing the faded scar on his face…

Oh. Of course.

She was tired, she found. And it could not hurt to sleep, for just a few hours.

Sonic watched her eyes slide shut, watched as Amy relaxed into sleep, a part of him wondering if it was only because he was beside her.

"Don't be an idiot," he muttered, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face. Her hate for him had been all too clear. 

He could not help but note that she looked much like the girl she had once been, in her sleep. It was deceiving however, and Sonic would do better to remember that.

He pried her fists open, noting the crescent shaped cuts in her palms, reminding himself to take care of them in the morning. Then he settled himself down, hoping for a dreamless sleep…

*****

 The shadows of the dimly lit room cloaked the large round figure of the doctor as he glared. His maroon mustache twitched as though with irritation when he talked.

"So, Amy escaped?"

The robot stepped forward, and it looked as contrite as any machine could - not at all.

"Yes, it was Sonic the Hedgehog sir."

The human only continued to glare.

"It's always Sonic the Hedgehog," he grated out, just as his fist slammed down onto the desk beside him with a thundering crash that echoed around the chamber for longer than it should have.

"Damn him!"

The robot remained untouched by this behavior. Perhaps it was accustomed to it, perhaps it was incapable of caring. It did not matter either way, its master's attention was once again focused elsewhere. The fat man stood, turning to one of the flickering monitors that always seemed to permeate his rooms somewhere or other, and he clasped his hands easily behind him, fingers tapping idly.

His rage was apparently gone. 

"She is crucial to my plans, " he bit out, and the tremors of ire were still present, in his voice. "We must find her… The delay is not much, but it is enough…"

"We believe that the hedgehog took her to his place of residence, Sir," one of the - apparently braver - robots supplied. 

The human whirled back to fact the assembly, laughing, his cape billowing out behind him.

"He did, did he?"

There was another gleeful chuckle.

"Well then, it's time we made a house call."

*****

To Be Continued… 

*****

_Sonic; "That's it?"___

_Orin; "You don't think it was long enough…?"___

_Knuckles; "Yes he does… He's just hopeless at sarcasm."___

_Sonic; *Indignant* "Am not."___

_Knuckles; *Sarcastically* "Oh. Wait. My mistake. You're not."___

_Sonic; "Damn right I'm not, I - watiaminute__…¬___¬  Shut up."___

_Orin; "Nice to see you happy, Knuckles."___

_Sonic; "Psch. 'Course he is… Finally got to make an appearance…"___

_Knuckles; *smiling brightly*  "I'm baaack!"__ ^____^_

_Orin; ^___^ "Knuckles… How OCC of you…"___

_Knuckles;  o___o "I can be happy…"___

_Sonic; "Yeah. Sure."___

_Orin;  ^__^ "See, Sonic can do sarcasm!"___

_Sonic; "Hey…O___O  I can! Who-hoo! ^__^ Go me!"_

_Knuckles; "I can be happy!"___

_Sonic; ¬__¬ "Red, you're missing the point here…"___

_Knuckles; *Still looking peeved* "Which is?"___

_Sonic; *Gleefully* "I can do sarcasm!"_

_Orin; *Sigh* "That's what I get for getting them started…"___

Anyway… This chapter is far longer than intended, and I wouldn't blame anyone for getting bored with it and giving up. Congrats if you get here, then. But since there is such a gap between postings for me, then chapters may as well be extended a bit, right?

*sigh*

Truth be told, I got carried away with Amy's visions… I had far too much fun with them for my liking - which is why they're so long. But they're important.

And Knuckles… ^__^ Yes, he is back. Not going to spoil it by revealing all, can't do that… But there will be more of him in upcoming chapters. What can I say… He's still my favorite.

I got a fit of finishing this chapter 'faster' than I intended because I was actually happy. (I write better when I'm happy) Life is looking up, Mom's out of hospital, summer's here, and I even got to go on a little trip and meet an idol of mine to boot. 

Leeds. Forbidden Planet. Signing.

James Marsters.

Need I say more?

O___o;;

Aww c'mon… You all know the guy… Spike the vampire, from Buffy? Know him now? So, I went, as I said, drooled a little, talked as much as I could manage, got him to sign stuff, and came home, mind-boggingly happy - which accumulated in me finishing this fic.  There. Some good came from it after all. 

Everyone take care, okay? (_While I run of to gawk at those photos again…._)

Huggles & Take Care 

_Orin._

_(Still deliriously happy, and still writing – and who has just realized that her most current Winterheart chapter is 30 pages long. O__o;; )_


	5. Thin Ice

Disclaimer: I own nothing here, not the Sonic characters, at the least, who belong to Sega… Only… the story is mine. And the original characters, and I'd like to keep them that way. Thank you. ^_^

_Orin;_ "It's finished…"

_Sonic_: "About time."

_Knuckles:_ *_Raising an eyeridge_*"I'd have to agree with Sonic on this… You're time-keeping is shot to Hell."

_Orin_: "So you delight in reminding me."

_Sonic;_ "What're friends for?" ^__^

_Knuckles_; "Besides, if we didn't then who would?"

_Orin;_ "Oh, so you mean those e-mails are something I can ignore?"

_Knuckles;_ "You seem to be pulling it off quite nicely so far."

_Sonic;_ "At least, if this release date is anything to go by."

_Orin_: "That's not ignoring, Damnit! I've been working!"

_Knuckles;_ *_Looking skeptical_*"Uh-huh."

_Sonic;_ *_Mirroring Knuckles' look_* "Right."

_Orin;_ "I have!" _*Waving her arms around emphatically and generally looking distressed*_  "I needed that Christmas break just to survive!"

_Knuckles;_ "But you did this over your break, out of the kindness of your heart?"

_Orin_; "Not exactly… the fans would've lynched me otherwise…"

*_Silence*_

_Sonic;_ "Waitaminute. Fans? What fans?"

_Orin_; ¬_____¬*_Sigh*_

_Knuckles;_ ^__^

WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.

**Chapter 4.**

**Thin Ice. **

_I'm not the girl you knew before,_

_So here's the deal – there's the door._

You ran away – left me here 

_I've learned to live – lived in fear._

-- Except: Emerald Eyes, Hearts of Ice – Amy Rose.__

_                                    ***                              **                                ***_

_Amy was dreaming._

_She knew this because she had never seen the gray memorial that stood before her, not with her waking eyes. Though she knew it well enough. She had seen it in her dreams before, and she had known she was dreaming then as well. _

_Because he had been alive then._

_She knelt, slowly, watching the cool stone as if it would dissipate before her eyes if she took her gaze from it. There was no sorrow in her expression, and had the situation been real then she would have thought it inappropriate. But Amy was dreaming. So, it was not so out of place there. She could be dispassionate in her dreams, and angry and sad, and no one would ever know. _

_She wondered briefly if it were possible over time, for a touch to smooth out the letters so delicately carved. Once she had started, it seemed she could not bring her fingers to stop tracing that final letter 's' in ' Knuckles'. The tips followed the carved groove over and over again._

_It felt cold. Every time she did it. The friction would not create heat._

_Amy could feel the grass dimly beneath her feet, and she knew to the North lay an expanse of open grassland, untamed and untouched yet by Robotnik. She used to stargaze there as a child. The nights had been bright and chilly, but the spot was one of the best to see the night sky and still be safe._

_There had been no headstone to obscure the view back then._

_She frowned. She did not feel real, not like she usually did in her dreams. Amy felt as though she did not truly exist, and that was strange. She remembered the dream, and it had always felt 'actual' before. It was as though…_

_She closed her eyes carefully, felt her hand, still moving on autopilot. S. A simple letter. S was for the sunrise he had stood watching, not crying, because he did not believe his comrade was dead._

_He had always been stubborn._

_S was for stupid. Slow. Seeming…_

_S…For scar.  For Sonic._

_A simple little letter, 'S'. So very versatile. _

_Amy knew she could sit there in her dream, perhaps forever, and it would not be long enough to erase the words from the stone. Logically, she also knew it was not doable anyway, knew that it was years of rain and wind and long frozen winters were what it took to turn rocks into dust. Geology, something she had learned as a child, the power of erosion. Amy could enunciate each syllable in her mind, shaping the word, knowing it made no difference at all. Grief could not wear down solid stone, no matter its strength._

_But it would not happen anyway – the stone would not be there that long._

_Because Sonic had been right. In his tenacity and unwillingness to believe – or willingness to believe - he had been the only one who knew the truth._

_Him and Amy._

_Despite the stone's cold, the air felt too warm to Amy, everything seemed too hot for it to be real. It was not raining; it was never raining when Amy wanted it to. It had not rained either when her father had died. It was not as though she had been expecting it that time. Not really. It was summer then, bright and warm. Not realistic. It was just- Movies. It always rained in movies._

_And then there was the silence, a prelude of the something to come. It was an eerie, dead, empty silence, and a sense of stillness that was too profound to be real. Lack of motion, except for her moving hand – her beating heart. A noiseless world, not cloaked in white as in Sonic's dream. But his had been one born from guilt, and Amy had no guilt over Knuckles' fate._

_Almost._

_But… She should have been used to it anyway. By not acting she had caused it. _

_He was not dead though. And that much was real. Amy did not know how she knew it, she did not know how she knew a lot of things. And Sonic had not told her about Knuckles – he would not need to, she had known it before it ever came to pass._

_It was her gift and it was her curse. To see an unalterable future, one set in a rock more solid than the marble of the tombstone in front of her. And the stillness echoed around her, gift or curse, or whatever it could be called._

_Amy wrenched her gaze from the hewed stone, to the bleak sky above._

_Because there was a storm coming…_

*****

Amy awoke to darkness. 

She immediately felt the soft brush of cool air on her face, the sensation of her own body trembling from within. There was a faint pain in her chest too, and for a while she just lay there wondering what it was and why she was feeling it. 

She could sense the dampness on her face. She had not cried in her dreams… But sometimes she did not need to.

A familiar sense of warmth surrounded her; she could feel it ease her shaking. Encasing her in a shell of security. Amy felt… safe. But nothing had changed since she had fallen asleep, not really.  The window was ever so slightly open, and that was the source of the cool air. It looked stuck in place, and that was no surprise really… The mirror across the room was still turned partly to the wall, as though someone did not want to see their reflection looking back at them. The moon was lower in the sky. The night was clear, not a hint of red among the lightening blues and fading stars…

It took Amy a moment to recognize why a red hued sky seemed important.

A soundless gasp left her lips when she did, and despite her foreboding, she sat up abruptly. Then she cringed and stilled, eyes closed and silently praying that it had not stirred the still warmth next to her. 

She need not have worried though, Sonic could sleep though Hell and high water – and still not wake until morning light.

Amy chanced to open her eyes when there were no signs of change from the cobalt hedgehog. Slightly surprised at Sonic's fatigue, she gave him a careful look. His breathing was slow and easy, and he took up most of the bed. Arrogant even in his sleep. He was completely silent as well. Amy remembered hearing his snores in her childhood – Sonic did snore, despite his protests to the contrary. He snored a lot and loudly.

Not any more it seemed.

And he dreamed too, it was another thing Amy remembered. He used to tell her of his dreams, because they had always been so bizarre they really merited telling. And he loved to talk. 

No dreams now.

Though, from what Amy could tell of his recent events, it was a blessing.

She frowned, remembered she was supposed to hate him, and then glared some more at the inert hedgehog. It did not last long though, because as she was glaring, she was also looking and for the first time, it seemed, she was seeing as well.  

The previous night, she had been sure Sonic had not changed, not in the slightest. He had maintained the same mask of cool confidence she remembered. He was still immature and irresponsible. Quick to act and slow to think – although he had gotten them both to safety…

That was beside the point.

But Amy had been wrong. There was no other way to say it. 

As he slept there in the half-light and Amy sat next to him, still feeling safe and warm, if a little resentful, she was forced to see it.

The change.

There was the scar. It was somehow brighter in the semi-darkness than it had been by streetlight.  It tore a path down the left side of his face, marring perfect features, imprinting a sense of injury on Sonic, even though the scar was faded and look very much healed. That it was a scar in itself, showed its import.

Wounds heal. Scars are forever. 

And the longer Amy looked at Sonic, sleeping silently, the more she could see the change in him. After a few minutes, the hedgehog lying next to her was barely recognizable to Amy. He was hard to reconcile with the Sonic she remembered. There was an unfamiliar hardness to his face, something worn away. His features were relaxed, eyelashes longer than she had imagined, fur darker in the shadowed light. Almost… black.

She shivered. 

Then she peered more closely, trying to see where the changes were. Somewhere around his eyes perhaps? Maybe they were harder, even closed. Maybe they would hold a certain knowledge- as they had last night – when open. She could not find exactly what was different, but Amy knew it was there, just beneath the surface. 

His mouth looked soft and the same. That was not it…

She leaned closer; close enough to almost touch noses with Sonic. Tilted her head, lost in exploration, and her breath caught.

Oh.

She figured it out. 

Sonic did not look like the infallible hero asleep; he looked just like anyone else would.

The things he had been though-  

No. 

What he had put _her_ though. He deserved whatever pain he got. More even. And she hated him. She hated him still. She would always hate him.

Amy felt cold then. She shivered again.

She had to get out; he was so close, too close. And he was warm and tired and looked breakable lying out like that, unaware. Nothing like how he should look, how she knew him to be.

Because it was not the Sonic she knew, she had to get out before she could feel compassion that would follow at the image the cobalt Freedom Fighter presented in his sleep. Because however he looked, he did not warrant her compassion. She reserved that for those who deserved it. 

Amy shivered again. She raised her eyes to look out the window, and then after another moment, averted her gaze.

Sonic shifted restlessly in his sleep. Amy gave him a quick glance and at his troubled expression, her hesitation resolved itself into a solid decision. She looked up again.

The door.

Her feet touched soundlessly on soft carpet.

Her escape.

*****

Sonic blinked his eyes open slowly, he knew instinctively that he was alone. There was emptiness in the bed next to him, where Amy Rose should have been. And a growing sense of dread in the hedgehog as he realized that she was not there.

He froze. Carefully he relaxed again, half of him not wanting to move.

She was gone. Out of the bedroom at least. That did not mean she had left the apartment. She was not that naive…

A low growl echoed around the room. Sonic's eyes were slitted and angry when he opened them. She was Amy Rose, of course she was that naive. Quickly, he turned his head and throwing the window a resentful glance, realized that the sun was still rising. Barely a night's sleep. He stretched out his arm, moving over the mattress carefully.

The bed was cold. She was long gone. Just like that.

She had left. No thank you. No goodbye – or even a 'see you later'. Nothing at all.

"Ungrateful little minx," Sonic muttered, sitting up slowly. The hedgehog rotated his shoulders once, still glaring around the room. Nothing had changed since he had fallen asleep, his guitar still lay, leaning against the wall, the mirror was slightly turned, the window still half open.

He really needed to get that fixed.

His breath was short but even. He would not panic. She was probably sulking in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or lounge. She would not have left. Her home was gone in a blaze of fire and fury so she had nowhere to go. And there was a gluttonous dictator after her pretty neck so-

 "Aw, Damnit!"

The bed was empty and Sonic out of the room before the syllables faded into silence. She was Amy Rose. Of course she would have left…

"Stupid little- I'm supposed to be the reckless one!"

The hedgehog's footsteps sounded out on the floor, though he was barefoot. 

"Yeah, right." 

He stomped from one room to the next, searching for Amy – knowing she would not be there.

A low growl. 

Sonic reappeared in the bedroom, reached under the bed in a smooth motion and pulled out a worn pair of red sneakers, then sat and pulled them on roughly. His movements were jerky and uneven. 

"I'm not the one who goes strolling around the city the day after a nutcase like Robotnik sends a squadron of crazed bots after my head…"

That said; the hedgehog grimaced, his mind racing ahead to all the places Amy could be. If he were honest with himself, Sonic could admit that he did not have the first clue where to begin. Her apartment was a burned, skeletal mess, not worth visiting. But it was about the only place Sonic knew to look.

Because Amy was in danger, and Sonic had been sleeping while she could be dead – or worse.

"I'm gonna' kill her," he snarled softly. Then he stilled.

Because that was a lie. Because killing her would mean more blood on his hands – though it might make Sonic feel a little better for a bit. Because killing her would mean one more friend dead, and another death on his hands. And more blood.

He was tired of the blood. 

And afraid.

He closed his eyes. Fought the urge to race out the door full pelt, and instead remained still. Or as still as he could, considering his heart was racing a-mile-a-minute. 

Afraid because Robotnik was after her, specifically her and he had no idea why, and she should not have rushed off without thinking – or telling.

And afraid because Amy Rose knew better than to run off when something like that happened.

What had changed?

Sonic fought a wince. The thought briefly occurred to him that the reason she had left was because she could not stand to be near him. Though he had no concept why she seemed to hate him, it had become quickly obvious to him the night before that Amy was not the hero-worshipping girl he remembered.

And he thought it stranger still to find that he missed it…

Or her.

His hands clenched and he curled his fingers around the softness of the sheets beneath him in an involuntary gesture.

"Damnit," he said again.

He had to find her. He would not lose another. He would not… He- 

He was tearing down the hallway when the phone in his apartment rang.

Sonic stopped. Momentarily, he debated, indecision halting his momentum somewhere between forward and pausing.  

It rang again.

He gritted his teeth, turned back against his will. Past experience had taught Sonic that sometimes it was better to wait and listen than to tear out the door, guns blazing. And he still had no notion where to look anyway.

If he was lucky, it would be Amy, and she would be apologizing and telling him just where she was and that she was fine, and asking that he come get her and keep her safe, just like he used to….

It was not. 

"Sonic?"

It took a moment for his mind to place the familiar voice over the connection. Sonic blinked. Then he relaxed slightly.

"Tails…" 

"You're okay!" The fox must have recognized certain weariness in Sonic's voice, because he added – "You _are_ okay, right?  I was worried."

"I'm fine, Mom." 

The hedgehog had forgotten all about his companion amid all his rushing. He was secretly glad to discover that Tails was not peeved at his disappearance, and gladder still to know the fox was okay. He grinned briefly into the headset at Tails' sigh.  Because Tails knew better than to rebuke the hedgehog. It would only fall on deaf ears anyway.

"You're-"

"Fine," Sonic repeated harshly. Then he gritted his teeth, regretting the outburst, and made the effort to soften his voice. "Not a scratch, Tails. Trust me."

There was a short silence, followed by another sigh. "Uh-huh…" Sonic could picture Tails shaking his head.  "Where've I heard that one before?" The fox sounded more cynical than was befitting his age. "Well, in case you were _wondering_-"  Tails began pointedly.

Ah, there it was, not as harsh as Sally, or as Sonic would have expected, but reproving nonetheless. 

"I'm at the hospital," Tails finished.

Suddenly Amy fled from his mind, replaced by real fear for Tails.

"Hospital?" Sonic's voice was a few octaves higher than was normal, and he could not keep the panicked note from surfacing in his voice. Bloody images flooded him mind, along with a rush of renewed guilt. He should not have left the fox so quickly, should have checked in on him as soon as Amy was safe, should have - "Why? Are you hurt? What-?"

"I'm fine," Tails assured, and after a moment added, "Mom."

Sonic blinked when he heard the definite smirk to Tail's voice. He scowled, "What're you doing there then?"

"Helping out with survivors from last night's fire… No fatalities by the way… Thanks to a certain hedgehog."

Sonic blinked. "Really?"

He had completely forgotten to bask in the glory of his daring rescue.

Again, he could visualize Tails' smile. "Yup. People are still talking about your rescue."

"No surprise there," Sonic said absentmindedly. It came out on automatic more than anything else. And there was no pride to the statement. 

"And Amy's here too."

Sonic blinked. Blinked again.

"What, where?"

"Here," Tails told him. He sounded slightly annoyed that he had to repeat himself.  "In the hospital – and she's fine too." He said it before Sonic could ask. "She was off today, but she told me she couldn't stay away."

Sonic was lost. And just to prove it-

"Huh?"

A crackle sounded over the handset. Tails was sighing.

"From the hospital," Tails said it slowly, with the air of one dealing with someone inherently stupid. "Where she works…? As an intern? You knew that, right?"

The silence told the fox that, no obviously, Sonic was one of the few that did not know.

Sonic leaned against the wall in his surprise. He frowned idly at the door before him. Amy was a nurse… Or almost at least. But she was too young, still a child really. Only, she was older than Tails by a little, and Sonic did not count the fox as a child anymore. Experience had aged him beyond that. But Amy… She did not have that experience.

She was…

His frown deepened. Because as soon as the thought fluttered past, doubt followed after. From the previous night, her eyes on his own were burned into his mind, like shards of hardened emerald. They were nothing like Tails'. But they were not the eyes of a child either.

She knew hate. Children did not. The moment they did, they ceased to be children.

So Amy Rose was no child… But still. 

A nurse? Where had that come from? She had never shown any interest in it before. Not in all the time he had known her.

Sonic had to blink again as his mind backtracked.

She had never taken to fighting much. Preferring to help out before, and afterwards… And she could tie a bandage better than anyone Sonic had known as a child, but still… Amy had always wanted to be a great actor, or singer or dancer, one or the other, as long as he could recall…

It was a definite fact that Sonic remembered Amy's voice was not so irritating in song.

"Sonic!"

He gave a small jump, almost whacked his head against the wall. Then glared momentarily at the telephone. He also had to blink again. "Wha-?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Tails sounded upset.

"Of course!" Another habit of concurrence that was said on automatic. Sonic did that a lot. Particularly when dealing with Sally. It seemed more often with Tails as well…

"Right."

Silence.

Another sigh. Though this one sounded more like a familiar vulpine growl to Sonic.

"I said…. I'm heading back to Knothole, okay? Sally wanted me back to help her do an overhaul on Nicole. Y'know she only let me go with you for a day or two."

The hedgehog nodded. He felt a sudden sense of relief that Tails was leaving.

"I know. Time's up." 

Sonic did not mention anything of his suspicions of Robotnik to his companion. He felt better that Tails would not be there, whatever happened. 

"Yeah…  just- I wanted to see… I couldn't go home without-" More silence, then, "I'm glad you're okay, Sonic."

Sonic closed his eyes briefly. Of course Tails had been worried, it ran both ways. He mentally gave himself a kick. It was all the fox needed, to be put through the mental anguish of not knowing, all over again. 

Very softly, "I know. Thanks, kid."

It was the best Sonic could do.

"S'okay" Tails had a shrug to go with his voice. It did not fool Sonic for a second.

"I… Well, I guess I'll see you in a few weeks?"

"Uh-huh. I guess."

Sonic hated farewells. He never knew what to say. And he sucked at them as well.

"Okay then… Um, g'bye Sonic."

"Wait, Tails!"

"Yeah?" The note of hope in the fox's voice nearly hurt Sonic on a physical level. He knew what Tails was waiting to hear – you don't have to go. Stay. Help. Or, I'll miss you. I was worried too… - and a hundred different responses Sonic could have said.

"What's the name? Of the hospital," was exactly what emerged from Sonic's lips.

"Oh… Um… Mercy."

 The disappointment in Tails' voice was palatable. "The Mercy Hospital," he clarified, "It's off Seaview Terrace, Y'know it?"

Yeah," Sonic made a mental map, picking out the best route there, but before Tails could hang up…

"Take care, kid."

"I will, Sonic." The relief and surprise there made Sonic feel a little better, "You too." Because whatever happened, Tails would be safe He could not have asked the fox to stay. He would never have asked.

Sonic hung up and was out the door in the next heartbeat.

**********

Sonic hated hospitals.

They were big, and white, and smelled funny, and this particular hospital bordered on excessively oversized. In other words, Sonic was lost. And he had been for some time.

He knew hospitals were places to help people, and so completely necessary though. Useful too. He had been in a few in his lifetime. But they were places for the sick as well, the dying. He hated that. Sonic had never been one to sit down and peacefully accept, be it something as simple as a common cold, or as life threatening as an ambushing squadron of SWAT-Bots. 

"I HATE YOU!"

It was a child's scream, and it sounded out, shrill and hitched, angry, bitter and grief-stricken all in one. The fading sounds echoed in the pristine hallway. 

"You promised! You said- You said that he was all right!" 

Sonic's pace slowed slightly at the sound and he frowned as the orderly hurried past him eyes down as though the screaming someone just around the corner did not exist. That her anguish was simply not there.

It was another thing Sonic hated about hospitals – the way the staff could turn on the indifference without a second thought. 

"Y- You lied! You said- I believed you!"

The hedgehog stopped short of turning the corner. He was still frowning as he rested a hand against the wall. The child's voice was becoming unintelligible through her sobs. But her torment rang out loud and clear. 

"I believed _in_ you!"

The hedgehog found his fists clenching unconsciously at the sound. He had wanted to do just the same thing not so long ago. To scream and tear at all those who came close. And to cry… And it was so easy to fall into blame. He could have blamed Sally, or Tails… so, so easy.

"YOU COULDN'T SAVE HIM!"

The emerald eyes closed briefly and Sonic swallowed. Then he straightened with conscious effort. Of all the times to lose it – and after so long. Sonic gave his head a brief impatient shake. He squared slender shoulders. It was not Sally's fault, no more than it was Tails'… With a deep breath he stepped around the corner –

And was halted in his tracks.

They were both shaking, and both from grief. The little girl's lips trembled madly and her body shook with badly suppressed sobs. Not far beyond her stood an older lady, perhaps her mother, perhaps just a guardian, Sonic could not know. She leaned against the wall, much in the same manner as Sonic had done earlier, and she looked as though it was the only thing holding her up.

But beyond them both was the focus of the child's ire. 

Amy Rose was shaking too, harder than even the child. Her shoulders were slumped, eyes and head downcast. She stared at the floor, unable to meet her accuser's fury. In one hand was a small deck of cards. The fist that held those cards was trembling too. Sonic could see the knuckles whiten as she gripped them tighter and all thoughts of the chewing out he had intended to give to Amy, fled.

"I gave you flowers!" the child screamed. Her little fists flew about in rage, hair and ears flying in agitation. "You said my daddy was okay and I gave you flowers!" She seemed to search for words to express herself further, and seemed not to find any, so she threw back her head and she screamed. Her voice tore and Sonic winced at the ripping sound, knowing how it must burn her throat, and still she screamed. 

Amy wilted. The pink hedgehog lifted a trembling hand. Her face lifted, Sonic saw her eyes shining with unshed tears across the distance between her and the anguished child.

"Ella," she whispered, " I-"

"SHUT UP!" The little girl drew back at the pleading and hurt in Amy's eyes. "Just shut UP!"

Sonic read the hate in her expression as she rounded on the trainee nurse with a vengeance. 

"Shut up! You promised! You lied to me!"

Amy's hand dropped.

"I know, Ella, and I'm sor-"

"I hate you! I hateyouIhateyouIhateyou!! I HATE YOU!" There was a flurry or movement from Ella and she propelled herself forward, fists flying and breath seething. She looked as though she wanted nothing better than to kill the pink hedgehog with her little fists and feet.

"I HATE YOU!"

She impacted with something soft and threw a quick inexperienced jab. A gloved fist caught it gently, but firmly enough that when Ella drew back in surprise it did not release her.

She blinked at the cobalt hedgehog who had the audacity to intercede between her and her target. She blinked because she abruptly realized that his eyes seemed sad, and he looked as though he understood just how she felt.

But he could not. Her daddy was dying, and nurse Amy had said he would be all right, and she had even done a reading with those magical cards of hers, and she had said that Ella would be happy. And this stranger with green eyes, who looked sad and still held her fist, was helping nurse Amy. He was one of nurse Amy's friends.

She hated him too. Even though he looked like her daddy did sometimes, like he knew lots of things about the world and that was why he was sad…

But she hated him, because he helped nurse Amy.

With a canine growl, Ella withdrew her hand. Just as quickly the other lashed out and it caught Sonic on the side of the face.

"I hate you too!"

He did not even flinch as the little girl slapped him again. Instead Sonic closed his eyes. It hurt to look at her. So close… And all that anger. No one should have to suffer so young. He did not see her turn and race away. He only heard the subdued slapping of her tiny feet across the tiled floor as she retreated. That, and the fading echo of her sobs.

With a silent sigh, he rose to his feet.

"You didn't need to do that," came the soft voice behind him.

Sonic turned to look at Amy. The pink hedgehog faced him with total equanimity; all traces of emotion on her face seemed to have vanished. Except for the ever-present resentment directed at him. The one that Sonic was beginning to associate with Amy Rose. The cards were still clenched tightly in one hand. Her other was caught on her orderly's uniform, and she twisted it between nervous fingers. It looked as though she was expecting an argument. Heck, it looked to Sonic as though she wanted one.

The hedgehog was suddenly weary. His face stung lightly with the dying resonance of Ella's furious slap. 

Pain… Sonic was tired of it. He was tired of feeling it, of seeing it. Amy's pain, Tails' pain Sally's, little Ella's. It seemed to be everywhere he looked. There was no escape.

"I don't need your help," Amy was saying quietly. As usual, her voice was tipped in steel.

Sonic felt the old rise of irritation in him at the ice to her tone. Even through the weariness. No one talked like that to Sonic the Hedgehog, not even Amy. And he had just saved her from another bout of pain, again.

But instead of throwing back a harsh reply, he gritted his teeth. Diplomacy, Sally said it was. She also it was one of those traits that Sonic was severely lacking. He was beginning to understand just what went on behind the calmness of the Princess, if she felt a fraction of the emotions that he felt while trying to rein in his anger. Because he wanted nothing more in that instant than to tell Amy that she was still a ditzy, wailing brat, despite the added age and attire. 

"You left without saying goodbye," was what he said instead.

Amy seemed taken aback at his reply, and Sonic felt a slight rush of satisfaction at her shock. But her eyes narrowed then and she tilted her head insolently.

"So what?" her mouth twisted, "You do it often enough." 

With that, she wheeled and stalked away. 

But Sonic was finished with tiptoeing around to save face and feelings. He caught up with her in the space of a heartbeat. His own ire rose to match hers as he fell easily into step with Amy. 

"Nice to see you're still a spoiled brat," he said offhandedly. Diplomacy could be damned.

Amy stiffened, but did not slow.

"Funny," she murmured, and he caught a flicker of green eyes in his direction, "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Sonic smirked brutally. 

"And those toys of yours," he gestured to her hand and the tarot cards it held. "You still con people into thinking those things actually work?"

He chuckled bitterly.

"No wonder that kid was so piss-"

She rounded on him, and her eyes burned with fury.

"Shut up!" she hissed. But Sonic had enough. He was sick of the antagonism thrown his way. Without a cause or reason. He was sick of running.

"Shut up?" he looked at her, then sneered, "Time was, when you'd have payed me to talk to you."

"I said, shut up!"

A smirk.

"What did you tell her, huh? That her dad was fine?" The hedgehog stopped at a doorway, he made a show of considering,  "Isn't that against hospital policy or something? Giving false hope to a patient like that-"

He had been expecting the fist Amy flung in his direction. The female of the species were all the same that way. So predictable. So Sonic dodged it without even thinking. 

What he did not expect was for Amy to launch herself at him bodily. She was growling, and it was suspiciously like the furious rumble he had heard from Ella – in its echo of timbre and fury.

He caught her, but the momentum sent them both stumbling, through the doorway and into the empty room beyond. 

"False hope…"

The whisper came from Amy of course. Sonic looked down at her, still in his arms, caught haphazardly. Her head was partially buried against his chest. She was warm. Her face though, was set in stone.

"Or denial." She looked up at him. "You can see, Sonic, but it's only in the white blindness of your dreams… white as an untarnished glove."

Sonic felt his face heat even as his mind raced through her words, and brought images to the fore of their meaning. White blindness? And all that blood…?

With a grimace of something between distaste and horror Sonic released Amy. Even as he pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, and saw that she was trembling again, he made no move to help her stand.

White blindness? Snow… But she could not know. There was not way- No one knew.

"Don't you think I want to deny it?"

Sonic stilled. Amy was looking at him and her gaze burned.

"She asked me to. She-she wanted to know, she said. They all do. And if it's not what they want to hear, then they get angry with me. They… hate me for it, because I tell the truth!"

Sudden understanding dawned in Sonic's eyes when she turned her head back down, looking at the floor clean and white. But he was able to deny it to himself for the moment. It was easier to deny. It _was_.

"So, it's easier to lie then?" He already knew the answer. He wondered if she did.

Amy shivered. Her voice was very small. "I saw it. I saw him-" She shivered again. "Sometimes they're wrong. Sometimes…"

Sonic stared. She seemed to believe in her beloved cards still… He shook his head, and though Amy could not see him, she stiffened. Her head jerked up and she fixed him with a blind gaze.

"Yes. I believe in them. I have to believe in something! And they're the only things I can rely on."

She watched his mouth work soundlessly. There was still disbelief in his eyes, but there was a horrified comprehension as well. He shook his head, but he was finally beginning to see. He was beginning to know what she had been burdened to know all her life.

"Because I can't rely on you!"

Still denying, Sonic continued to shake his head. "W- What're you talking about?" His voice lacked conviction. "How did you-?"

"You didn't stay!" she cried suddenly. The pink hedgehog whirled on him furiously, her face awash with accusation. 

"You left! You left me- You left all of us here! You thought your work was done and you left! You didn't stay to see- to pull the bodies out of the rubble and the water. You didn't stay to help dig the graves - or see the children-"

She threw the words at him like poison, a part of her knowing they were cruel, but wanting him to bleed as she was bleeding. Wanting Sonic to hurt as she had been hurting for two long years.

The color drained from his face. She could see his struggle.

"Amy I-"

But she would not let him speak; he was drowning, and for once, she wanted to see him flounder, the conquering hero reduced to something useless - helpless. Like her.

So Amy went on instead.

"You left! After Chaos! And I saw it alone! I saw it again - alone! I saw it in my dreams, my nightmares, and I never said anything and then I saw them in the light of day! I didn't say anything Sonic! Then I saw them by the _light of day!"_

She was not crying. Considering, of that she was proud of herself. There were things more important in her life to cry over this now. Whether or not someone who had been as cruel to her as Sonic had been, saw her cry, did not matter.

"Everything's so real in the daytime..." came her whisper, "It wasn't even raining. Sunny and warm, hot even and we pulled the dead bodies out of the water. Searched for survivors in the rubble. Listened for the cries underneath-"

She knew Sonic could see the way she shattered, even as she shut her eyes tightly. Her mouth thinned into a harsh line, and her hands trembled. She did not move, but she quivered where she stood.

Sonic too, remained still. And the pain echoed around them both, in the silence.

Then. 

"But you were gone." A harsh whisper, rising in volume with every word, until she was screaming at him all her pain. "So I had to see it **_ALONE_**_!" _

The tears that threatened to come prickled behind closed eyelids. She would not let them. 

She had run. He had run. In the end it had come to this.

"Chaos was what he was. He was hurt, and scarred," her eyes made a momentary flicker to Sonic's own scar, but relentless, she went on.

"But you had no reason. You had the choice, when all was said and done. You could have stayed, and you could have helped. Instead, you chose to go. And I was left with the bodies of the dead."

Sonic flinched. But still he did not speak. 

"I was a child then. But when I saw-" 

She stopped. And Sonic saw her gather that unfamiliar poise, her frame radiating a composure that was alien for such a young girl. 

Amy smiled a fleeting bitter smile; there and then gone.

"You left me alone, Sonic," she said in a breath. Her eyes reopened. Her words so precise, so final, that they drove into Sonic like the sharp point of a needle.

_"_And then that child_ died."_

With dignity, the young hedgehog turned from the taller form, and walked out the door. She did not look back.

*****

"Sir, our surveillance has picked up the subject."

"Heading?"

It came from the shadows. Behind R-695. He had not even known Maser was there, and his observation had been made to the comm.-link on the motherboard before him. But the  robot showed no surprise. He supposed idly that Master had not programmed him to feel any, because, indeed, he felt none.

"Outside of Mercy Hospital, exact destination unknown, but with current bearing it is estimated to be Sunsand Beach."

"Taking a sunset stroll along the sand is she?"

There was a chuckle in the darkness.

"Sir?"

His master seemed to find something funny. But then, his Master did that sometimes anyway – chuckled for no discernable reason. Only it was never just that, he knew. Master always had his reasons.

"Is the 'retreat' ready?"

"Sir. And waiting."

"Good… Good…"

More silence. He really had no desire to hurry Master, but R-695 felt that his Master did had a point to reach. Sometimes his Masters genius overshadowed his cognitive processes and Master was left lost in the flurry of his thoughts. 

"Should I take action, Sir?"

"What?"

R-695 did not hurry Master. He waited for his Master to make the decision, though he had an idea what it was going to be.

"She is alone?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And those cards?"

"We were unable to locate them, Sir. It is most likely she has them in her possession."

"Yes, most likely…"

Another chuckle, "Well then, proceed… In fact… send in the Eggs-terminator… heh, heh…"

Master was laughing. Master did that too, when he had thought up a particularly nefarious plan. R-695 nodded obediently. He did not laugh. He was not programmed to.  

His Master was grinning behind him. He could see the reflection on the glass screen bin front of his display sensors 

"It's time for phase two…"

*********

**To Be Continued…**

*********

That's it. More ASAP. And I mean that. I'll work on the next chapter as much as I can. Hopefully, in a few weeks I'll have a laptop – so it means that there's be computer access at the house. Because I'll not take my 'baby' away from home least something go wrong and she be damaged. My lil' computer is very sensitive. ^_^

Besides, I'm terrified of it behind stolen. Kerry is much safer than Dublin to live.

I have to apologize for the length of this chapter; it's too long still, even though I cut parts out. And Sorry too tardiness -

_Sonic_; "And the crapiness."

_Orin;_ "Yes. And the crapiness."

_Sonic_; O___o "Is she agreeing with me?"

_Knuckles_; "I think it's more out of exhaustion than anything else."

_Orin_; "Yup."

_Knuckles_; "And the fact that you become quite obnoxious when she doesn't"

_Sonic_; "Hey!"

_Orin_; "Yup."

_Sonic_: *_Mumbles incoherently, but we get the general idea that he's slightly irked*_

I wouldn't be surprised if most of those actually following this arc have gotten bored with the waiting. I know I probably would've. And since the quality of this chapter is poor-

_Sonic_: "You got that right!"

Ahem!

_Knuckles_; "He's sorry." *_Twacks Sonic upside the head*_ "Please go on."

_Sonic:_ *_Glaring_* "Ow!" *_Looks at Orin*_ "Or not. You could just stop. Writing, I mean…"

Believe it or not, I was thinking the same thing.

_Sonic_: O__o

_Knuckle_s: O___o

To be honest, I seem to have run out of energy, and time. So, once this arc is over. I may take a break. A long one… 

_Sonic_: O__o

_Knuckles_: o____O

I love writing. But life comes first.

_Huggles & Take Care_

_Orin._


	6. Losing Grip

Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She is mine. But the rest belong to Sega or Fleetway or Archie respectively.

_Sonic:_ "I think I hate you."

_Orin:_ "I think you've already said that. Many times."

_Knuckles:_ "Just goes to show, he's running out of material."

_Sonic:_ "Running out? Me? No way, man! Now Orin on the other hand… can we say 'repetition' here?

_Orin:_ "What?

_Knuckles:_ "Obviously, he means you're repeating yourself, or the fic or something. He's Sonic, being obscure is in his job description."

_Sonic:_ "Do I even have one'a those?"

_Knuckles:_ "*Shrugs*

_Orin:_ *Looking miffed since there were many brain cells burned for this particular chapter* "How exactly am I repeating myself now?"

_Sonic:_ "Aw c'mon! The angst! The pain! The hurting of lil' old me!" 

_Knuckles:_ *Hiding a grin rather badly* "It just goes to show… Some good things bear repeating."

_Sonic:_ *Glaring* "So should we kill you off again, too?"

_Knuckles:_ O__O

_Orin:_ *Has to laugh at that one*

_For NetRaptor._

WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.

**Chapter 5**

**Losing Grip**

_ "I will never know myself until I do this alone. And I will never feel anything else until my wounds are healed. I will never be anything, 'til I break away from me. And I will break away. I'll find myself today."_

_Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park_

******************

Something unaware in her mind brought Amy to the darkening shoreline. She had not so much as made a conscious decision to go as had found herself walking, feet moving of their own, in that direction. Down past the hospital, through the dirtier alleys of the city, onto an old beaten path she had known even as a child.

She headed there without the vaguest map in her head. She had no goal other than to be somewhere besides where she had been. Nothing other than to be away from him. She felt strangely calm inside, considering the significance of her outburst. And Amy wondered if it signified the end of the storm, or merely the eye.

Amy could not remember a time when she had not felt bitter, had not felt the restless scream welling up inside – _You hurt me! How could you be so blind?!_, it had been running in her head like a mantra for months. The volume raising a notch at every scrap of news that drifted on the media of his exploits, with every televised shot of him.

And when she had seen him there, amid the chaos that had been her home, it had taken all the artifice she had to not let him see her cringing, to not give substance to the black hatred she had felt rising behind her eyes.

And he had seen it, and still he had not known.

Amy felt her fists clench, the fury rising again. She fought it down.

The beach was supposed to calm her frayed temper and bring some semblance of calm back to her tormented thoughts. That was why Amy had headed there. The swash and backwash of gentle waves had always proved to be therapeutic to her in the past. And the ocean's gentle greens were calming as well, when they did not remind her of _his_ eyes. Though they were more emerald than aqua- but then now and again, everything became reminiscent to her of 'him'. It was not intentional, and neither did Amy wish to have so many reminders of her obsession in her life, but it happened anyway.

The setting sun was bleak enough; still, it set the sea alight in hues of gold and red. Not a hint of green in sight. But Amy thought of Sonic anyway. 

It was bitter, and though the snow on the ground had all but melted in the slight increase of heat the days were bringing with them, Amy still felt the shadow of ice unfolding over the peaceful ocean. The night would be freezing – there was not a cloud to be seen on the darkening horizon.

On impulse, Amy hugged herself. She was cold, if truth were told, but she had no desire to return to Sonic's apartment, because she would have to return there, it was the only place left for her to go. Rowan she had not seen since the fire. She was worried. But she knew Rowan was safe, alive. She felt it.

A voice intruded on her thoughts.

 "It's getting chilly out here; you should be inside – in the warmth."

Amy stiffened on instinct, before she realised with a stop and a start that it was not Sonic. That the voice held a decidedly quieter timber than the hedgehog's ever did. And then there was the lilt, more pronounced than ever before, as though he was either out of practise speaking all together, or simply out of practise at speaking common Mobian. But perhaps most significantly, Amy knew that voice – 

Of course she knew that voice.

The pink hedgehog turned to him with a small smile, carefully and quiet she nodded.

"Hello, Knuckles."

*******************

He could have launched himself after her retreating form. He could have pursued doggedly like a large part of him felt like doing. He could have argued with her until she saw and understood that it was all a huge misunderstanding. That her two-year-long hatred was this massive error on her part. She had seen everything at the wrong angle and blamed him for events beyond his control.

Sonic could have done any number of things. He could have left it at that and returned to Knothole without another word. Without closure.

Only he did not.

There were two reasons for this. The first was that he was reeling too much from her revelations to do anything much other than stare in a blank state of denial after her, long after Amy had gone. He was afraid. He was unwilling to pursue her because it would possibly mean facing the quiet fury all over again. And it was fury; it was wrath, pure and justified.

And that brought him to the second reason. It was justified.

He did not follow Amy, to try to argue with her accusations, because she was right. On all counts. 

And it made Sonic furious. Though it was difficult for him to understand exactly at who or why he was so angry. The words, her words stung, and they did much more than that too, because once voiced they burrowed into his conscience, twisting and clawing their way through his thoughts until they were fairly consuming all he could think about.

Because she was right. And in the end it all came back to that.

They hated her because she told the truth; it was a very valid cause for hate, Sonic reasoned. Truth hurt the most. And it was easier to hate in the face of such life-altering truth. People hated for such little things. People lied for little things, like Amy had done. They lied to save face and feelings. Why not do it to save injury too? Only it never worked out quite so well in practise, because sometimes those decisions came back to haunt. And it was the nastiest thing in the world to be living in could-have and should-have, because there was no going back, no changing the decision you made. All you could do was live in the memory and the mistake and wonder.

_"I saw it. I saw him-"_

And Sonic had never seen. He chose to remain blind in the face of those truths Amy was all about. He should have know from the instant he had set eyes on Amy in her broken apartment, that something was different, about her, about her life. About the way she looked at him and had said, "Get out," so very quietly. Two simple words and they should have told him of the hurts and words she was caging within, bursting to get out. For two years.

Denial, she had said. Sonic could only see in the blindness of his dreams. And he was the hero, he needed to see most. And of course, he had not. And she had suffered. And _he_ had suffered. 

But it was not about Knuckles. It was about a different kind of failure.

_"Because I can't rely on you!"_

And it always came back to that.

"You had the choice… Instead you choose…" 

He had chosen freedom, and the safety running away brought with it. Those were the choices he would always choose.

_"And then that child died."_

And it really was as simple as that. Her words held no eloquent phrasing, no poetic value. She said what she meant, and she told him what he had done, and again it hurt. Because it was truth. He had chosen to return to Knothole for his accolades and the hero's welcome he had known was waiting. He had played his part, the world was safe again. What more did they want? What more could she want?

Amy had never entered his mind. Not in the trek home, and not in the time since. He had just forgotten. And she was right.

It was easier.

Sonic paced the hospital grounds, the distance eating up his speed too fast for him to wear his worries down through walking. It was not something he could do anyway. Neither was running. It was curative enough, but he was too fast for it to be a challenge enough to tire him out. He paced until he could not tell where the ward he started out in was, and realised he was lost. He paced until he realised that the sun was setting and that Amy had nowhere else to be but his home – and that she had no way in unless he was there to open the door.

He paced until he realised it was time to stop running.

Then he found his way out of the maze of hospital wards and headed after Amy.

***************

"Amy." The scarlet head tilted. 

Amy watched him carefully; it was not as though she was suspicious – not truly – it was just… Knuckles was technically dead, at least that was what everyone presumed. Apart from herself. And-

"Shouldn't you be talking to Sonic?" She sounded bitter, and it surprised her. As did the rueful expression on Knuckles' face that followed her words.

"No," he shook his head – and was it her imagination or were his headspines shorter than she remembered? "He would… panic."

Amy tilted her head briefly, shivered as she considered that. Eventually she allowed a short nod. "I guess," she admitted. "He's shook up. Still."

Then she turned her eyes back to the ocean, trying to think of something to say to change the subject. She had no desire to talk about Sonic. Her breath hitched even as she thought about him. She would NOT cry.

"Breathe." It was said softly and Amy jumped a little, turned wide eyes back to Knuckles. The scarlet echidna was gazing out at the setting sun as well, the faint breeze catching his headspines and tossing them loosely on the wind.

No, it was neither the wind nor her imagination. His headspines were shorter.

"Excuse me?" she said.

Knuckles lowered his head, looking at the ground as he answered, "Breathe… Slowly- it… helps."

"Helps what?"

"To stop the tears."

Amy shivered again and had to look away from the lone echidna, closing her eyes. She hugged herself and shuddered outright. "I wasn't going to cry," she protested softly.

Silence.

"All right."

Sonic would have argued to the contrary. He would have disputed her claim until she relented or he stormed off because she would not relent. Only… Amy doubted Sonic would ever have noticed her unformed tears to begin with. But Knuckles was not – nor ever would be – Sonic the Hedgehog, and at times like the one present, the differences between them were evident.  

It was more than the scars. It was deeper than that. Now.

And Amy found herself shivering again. Not because of the growing cold. And she found that she could not bring her eyes back up to look at the former Guardian in his silence. She knew what it meant.

She had seen.

Amy shivered again.

"You should be inside," Knuckles repeated.

"It's cold inside too," she whispered. It was a deep chill that settled in her being when she thought of it. Of him. When someone dwells in the cold too long, it begins to seep into them. A part of their skin. Amy's room had been the coldest in her apartment, she felt. Sometimes she felt that she carried it with her, wherever she went.

"It's- warmer than out here."

"Is it? Are… are you cold?" Because she wanted to know – to see, if Knuckles felt the chill as well. And she did look at him then. And just as she had known, Knuckles would not meet her gaze. Could not. 

"No," he said shortly. "I'm not cold."

He was lying. He was a terrible liar. 

She nodded toward his arm, toward the bandage there and the tint of faint red staining it. "What happened?"

He did not follow her gaze, instead his shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. "Difference of opinion."

Amy frowned. Once she looked, she found she could not look away. There was damage to his arm, and… the old scar on his face, but she knew what that was about. Then across his chest, there was another, newer than the scar, but just nearly as old – it would fade from what her practised eyes could see, but it must have hurt when-

Suddenly Amy had to speak, to fill the oppressive silence with something, other than the thinking and the knowing it would bring. She looked at the echidna's face again, "Those scars look painful."

"They'll heal," was the immediate rejoinder and Amy felt like sighing – though it brought her thoughts back to Sonic – for once she felt she had to agree with him, when it came to conversation Knuckles was definitely… what was the word Sonic had used? Stunted?

"But you hurt." And there, she had said it. And there was the quality in her voice, one that sounded nothing like her normal tone, something entirely different, which had Knuckles look at her sharply, with eyes gone decidedly shuttered and dark.  She knew his eyes searched her face for something, something that would tell him what she was thinking, so she deliberately made her expression blank. It was a trick she could pull so much easier than just two years before.

"I… what?" His eyes were more than just dark then, they were not the cool-blue of ice, but were just as sharp, just as cold. And Amy swallowed against that ice-cold, the hint of menace as it moved cross her face, watching her every nuance of expression, resting on her eyes, tilting her chin up.

She could not look away.

He gathered steel-cold layers of dignity around him, like a cloak under which to hide his shattered self. He built so many walls around, that they formed a tower without him ever knowing, trapping him in a fortress of his own defence. And it never crumbled, even as Knuckles looked at her, she could see it, but she could see the cracks too. Where once there had been none there were deep fissures, chasms of hopelessness and hate. And she could see underneath. And the pain and bitterness she felt faded when she did…

How could she compare? Her hurts were a paltry thing compared to his. How could anyone – ever?

"You can't feel without being burned by the flame," she said suddenly, and Knuckles' eyes narrowed a fraction.

"You're not cold," Amy went on, voice hollow, "Never will be, there's fire and a black hole where you were once…Your vision has gone dead and red, and all the rain of pain in the world couldn't quench this fire."  

She closed her eyes, so she could not see his face. She heard the wet sound of the lapping waves in her ears, the rushing seemed louder that it should have been. Or perhaps that was just because she was scared. She stood, cold and alone, despite the company, and as she clasped her hands against her arms, hugging herself, she realised she was not scared – she as terrified. 

She wished it was raining. Wished she had the courage to open her eyes and to give Knuckles the regard enough to meet his pain face to face. She wished she had the nerve to go and seek out Sonic and to tell him… everything. But she just stood there instead, holding herself in the growing dark, wishing, wishing for rain…

"I'm sorry," came her broken whisper. Amy could not honestly say who she was apologising to.

But it did not matter, when she opened her eyes, she was alone.

************************

If Robotnik had intended for his operations to be covert, Sonic imagined he had failed spectacularly. 

The giant hulking monstrosity towered taller than a two story building and lumbered along with all the destructive passage of a great juggernaut. People fled in its wake and its path. Sonic had heard their screams echo around the strangely empty streets long before the originators of those screams or their cause had come into view.

When it did, Sonic had to stop, and despite himself and the situation he had to give voice a soft wolf-whistle.

He shook his head bemusedly.

"Obviously Ole' Eggman's not a fan of 'the-bigger-they-are' theory," he muttered. It was Robotnik's design to be certain; Sonic had been looking at it for near to fifteen years, he could see the flairs and flaws that were Robotnik's and Robotnik's only. And though Robotnik had grown more extravagant in recent times, Sonic could still identify the madman's robots upon sight.

It was huge. That was one of the first signs. Robotnik was a fan of big robots. And spikes. It had those in abundance. It also did not look particularly bright. This was another regular trait that Sonic had come to associate with Robotnik's robots. The dictator never figured into programming any kind of self-preservation into them. Whether it was because he was afraid to, or because the fact had honestly never occurred to him, Sonic did not know. He was very aware though of how easy this had made some of the most ferocious looking of Robotnik's robots fall in the past.

With the exception of Metal Sonic, all of Robotnik's robots had fallen one time or another.

Sonic quickened his pace. The sudden thought occurred to him that Robotnik was still pursuing Amy, and that he had sent robots after her in the past, and that it was the probable reason for his latest creation's sudden appearance.

He felt the familiar adrenaline rush at the thought of oncoming battle. It sped through him, increasing and surging with every quickening stride until it pounded out in tandem with his heart and breath.

When he rounded the last corner and caught his first sight of what was ahead of him, two things occurred to Sonic. That the robot was far, far more dangerous it seemed, close up. And that his assumptions had been correct after all. Half a street away, cornered and shivering stood Amy Rose.

Sonic felt a snarl rise in his throat.

Narrowing his eyes and feeling the sense of resentment rise, he darted across the distance, closing in on the unknowing robot and its victim.

There were times when Sonic genuinely respected Robotnik as an opponent. It may have seemed a strange idea to most, but as an adversary and long-time rival, Robotnik was one of the best. Sonic had to commend the human on some of his plans in the past. For their creativity at least. Though this respect was not to be confused with 'like'. Sonic did not like Robotnik. Sonic would never like Robotnik.

Then there were the times – like the one at present – when Sonic would have gladly wrung the human's neck without very much coercion. It was one thing to fight your enemy on equal grounds, opponent to opponent. That was something Sonic could understand. But innocents, those who could not defend themselves, Sonic considered them strictly off limits, and felt a distinct sense of loathing for the human when he sunk so low as to use them against Sonic.

The cobalt hedgehog dashed across the distance, in front of the robots path and grabbed Amy out of its reach even before those black eyes could acknowledge his existence.

Amy clutched at him, gasping and shuddering as Sonic raced away. "Y-you're late," she accused through chattering teeth. Sonic fought a smile. That was new. The banter. He could sense no ice in her words, just a strange sound of relief.

He halted a distance away from the beast and deposited Amy on the sidewalk.

"You're stopping." Amy stated blankly. She stared at Sonic, then beyond him, at Robotnik's robot. "You're stopping!?" she said again. She looked faintly panicked, and then accusing as she went on. "Why?! Why are you stopping?"

"Look at it, it's huge," Sonic pointed out. A part of him only wanted to take Amy's unspoken advice – run – and to do just that. A part of him wanted to take her advice because it was not said in anger, and Amy was not angry with him and he could not remember her voice anymore when it not tinged with anger. And he found he missed that.

But he was done running. He had not imagined he would have to prove his new resolve so soon, or in such a physical manner, but it was all the same. 

"It's big enough to level the city." Sonic told her. It was reason enough for him not to run. She would have to understand that.

He took a breath and dashed back at the robot.

"No more running," he muttered. His approach was direct, as was his usual style. And as usual, the first hit had no apparent affect as Sonic sped up an adjacent building and propelled himself into a spin at the huge head. It dented, Sonic could feel the metal wedge beneath the impact, but of course, the robot did not even waver.

But Sonic was expecting that. They never wavered on the first hit, or even the second. He would wait for it to attack, because it was always then that their flaws showed themselves to Sonic.

The hedgehog landed a short distance away from the cowering Amy – who was throwing him an accusing glare – and prepared to dash again, when the glint of cold metal flashed beyond Sonic's vision and suddenly his torso felt like it was on fire, burning with pain. He shrieked and staggered back, clutching at his chest.

His pulled his hands away with some effort, clutching the metal dart in one fist.

Two sets of wide green eyes stared up at the robot. Both expected to hear the tinny sound of Robotnik's laughter, because it seemed to be his cue. But only silence reigned, save for the floundering of steel limbs bringing the bot closer.

Sonic had to wonder at Robotnik missing an opportunity to gloat. It was strange…

Then the sky seemed to dip and twist and the hedgehog forgot all about Robotnik as the dart fell from lifeless fingers and he strove to stay upright. Something caught his arm, and he blinked, struggling to focus his eyes. Pink, a pink blur.

Amy.

"What's wrong?!" she cried. Sonic had to blink again. If he did not know better he would have imagined that tone to her voice was worry. Only he did know better. Carefully he shook her off. Carefully, because every move made the world spin and tilt in a kaleidoscope of confusion.

Swaying, Sonic stood alone. "I dunno," he muttered. He frowned, trying to concentrate. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. His limbs felt heavy.

"Drugged," came Amy's voice to him. "It must be a drug. He wants to slow you down."

Sonic focused his blurry gaze on his huge opponent as best he could. "He _wants_ kill me," he muttered, then shot the surprised Amy a bleary glare. "Get back and stay back," he said, stumbling forward a few steps, steadying himself. He could fight this. He had to. He saw Amy's horrified expression out of the corner of his eyes.

"In fact, run. Run now," he amended, "He's after you. Go, hide or whatever… just leave."

"But, you're-" Amy spluttered.

"Gonna' stop him from following you." His eyes were dark, with either pain, or weariness or determination. It was impossible to tell. "Or, try anyway." He waved a hand. "Go!"

The fresh sea air was conductive to keeping Sonic on his feet, and the hedgehog had to concede that at least he had that on his side. But his circulatory system was doing the opposite, his blood flowed and heart pumped faster than any normal Mobian, and it only served to spread whatever it was Robotnik's newest flunky had decided to pump him full of.

In short. He was running out of time.

On instinct he ran through the options his battleground presented him. He was outside the city enough to not have to worry about civilian life – that was a definite plus. Everyone had fled as the monstrosity had approached. The beach… It was behind him. Water was good, metal could not swim, and perhaps he could-

And sand.

The robot would be severely encumbered by sand; maybe Sonic could use its hulking weight against it- 

But before he could process that thought into action, a massive fist flashed down, sweeping faster that Sonic could imagine for something so huge. It slammed against him, sent him tumbling through the air with the speed of a compact missile. 

Sonic curled into a ball, on instinct, and fought down a yelp of pain when he slammed into something hard. He felt something crack on impact – not bones, but bricks and mortar of the wall he had crashed into.

The hedgehog landed, the world spun.

The robot used the opportunity of Sonic's temporary bout of dizziness to aim another deadly punch, but Sonic, blinking and cursing quietly to himself for underestimating his opponent, ducked and flattened himself against the ground as the hand swept past. The wall that had been his cushion, crumbled into rubble.

The great hand withdrew and it seemed to Sonic that his opponent pondered on the fact that there had been no impact on the second strike. Sonic watched as those cavernous eyes flashed electronically, the red pupils in them flickering in the robotic estimation of a blink. It regarded its hand, and then the head lifted, to regard Sonic instead.

Sonic did not waste time wondering what it was trying to come to terms with. Instead, the cobalt hedgehog decided to use the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Eyes darting around frantically, he eventually settled for using a nearby lamppost for a vaulting platform and raced up its side, pausing an instant at the top to get his bearings and locate the best target. It was one thing to focus on the lamppost, glowing softly in the dimming light, but it was another thing entirely to face shadows around his enemy and try to pick out the best part to strike.

He could barely see the robot. How was he ever supposed to-

The hesitation cost him. 

"Sonic! Jump!"

The robot gave a loud digital scream, piercing enough to have Sonic clutch his ears on reflex, and it threw its entire weight into a full assault on the oblivious hedgehog.

"JUMP!" Amy. Screaming at him through the growing darkness.

On blind trust, Sonic leapt and twisted through the air, hoping his depth perception was not so completely mangled that he misjudged the distance between lamppost and ground. He heard the robot beyond him rumble past, tearing up the street as he landed safely. The asphalt flew apart, spraying much like dark water disturbed by a violently thrown rock, and it rained down on Sonic. An out-worldly hail from dark skies. 

He dodged and wove as best he could, considering, and survived all the larger missiles. The few that hit him were so small that the most they would leave was a small cut, or bruise.

"What're you still doing here?" Sonic shouted. He did not need to look at Amy to know she had heard him. After all, he had heard her. He watched the blurry outlines of the robot instead. It looked as though it was trying to make sense of what had happened, slowed by the removal of its hands from the street.

"I told you to run!" Sonic shouted louder then, when Amy did not answer him.

"How could I?! You can't even _see_ it!" was the replying shriek.

"I don't need to!" Sonic was irate. She did not have the first clue when it came to combating.  "I can fight it anyway. What I can't do is look after _your_ hide as well."

Silence. Thunder rumbled overhead. It began to rain

The robot was on his feet. Sonic's world was growing dimmer.

In desperation. "Damnit Amy! RUN!"

Through the sudden downpour Sonic watched the monstrosity's head turn towards him with agonising slowness, and it occurred to him that the thing had probably zeroed in on his shouts. He gritted his teeth in silent frustration.

The rain was not affecting the bot in any way at all, and the slickened street would not help Sonic achieve his goal either. Sonic lowered his head stubbornly and broke into a loose sprint. He hoped that Amy was taking his advice, but did not look to check. He doubted he would have seen her anyway.

The rain battered and chilled his frayed nerves as he geared up for another attack. His opponent did the same. The wet metal shone, reflected streetlights in the darkness and finally, Sonic could see his enemy clear enough to be confident of his target. It glowed crimson and gold in the light and the blurriness in Sonic vision combined with the rain made it look like some crimson demon out to bring down Armageddon.

Sonic picked up speed, his teeth gritted, eyes narrowed and feet flying. The mechanical being started towards the small cobalt form suddenly, but it was not expecting that form to swerve off and push himself up the side of the skyscraper behind it – defying gravity again. Neither was it expecting that small form to launch himself off the building and dive, cutting through the air, and through its back.

The time it took for Sonic to move, and attack, and impact, and burst out through its chest was miniscule, and not even measurable by seconds. But to Sonic, weak, and reeling, vision blurred and senses blunted it may as well have been a short span of eternity. The cold tangle of wires, the metal and pistons and gears and circuitry that made up the robot seemed endless. It seemed to grab at him, slowing him down, curling its coils around his spirit and crushing it mercilessly between lifeless limbs.

But Sonic tore and spun and slashed like only he could. Buying time. Buying life. The robot seemed to shudder, and then it buckled. But still it did not fall.

But Sonic did.

The hedgehog emerged into fresh sea air, shuddering and gasping desperately, his vision gone black and his heart pumping furiously for the air he so urgently needed. For a second or more he held on precariously to the robots chest plate, eyes staring blindly, frantically, for something, anything in the darkness, fingers clinging to the jagged metal of his forced exit.

Then Sonic could not do even that. With something akin to a sigh, the hedgehog's green eyes slid closed and he let go.

************************

Amy watched the battle, battling with herself all the while. Every ounce of her being called at her to flee, to get way as fast and as far as she could. But there was Sonic… 

The relief she had felt at his appearance had faded as the battle escalated, and as Sonic lost. 

Until finally he was vaulting through the air, completely out of control. Amy's blood quickened and burned with the undercurrents of raw, unadulterated terror as she watched him fall. It seemed he fell forever. With total lack of grace he hit the ground, rolling over and over, a blur of blue and red across the unforgiving pavement. He came to a sliding halt far from the robot, and once there did not move again.  The rain pooled around him, coating his spines and fur in a sheet of moisture as he lay completely still on the ground.

Unmoving.

He was not dead, he was not dead, he was not-

And then, though there was terror there, Amy felt something else too, something she had not felt in a long time, something almost foreign to her. There was a flame of righteous white-hot fury licking at the edges of her emotions. The tongues of that flame threatened to consume her alive.

She had not seen! Why had she not seen!?

Across the distance, low and painful, she heard Sonic moan.

He was alive.

She scrambled madly toward him. Hate and fear and old dreams were forgotten as the only thought in her mind was to reach him – to ensure that he was not dying, not leaving her again. Fumbling at his neck with trembling fingers, she fairly burst into tears when the rapid and unsteady pulse answered her search. But she stilled only for a second, before her head lifted to dart a furtive glance back up to the lumbering shape stomping ever closer.

Gathering his form up against her. Amy rocked.

What would she have done if he had died?

Would she have cried then? Regretted? Been bitter? Would it have made any difference? She wanted to protect him, because he had done all he could to protect her, against her protests. He had fought, as best he could, and he had fallen. He was suffering for her failure. For her.

"I hate you," she whispered, cradling his form closer, ignoring the rain and the cold, and the advancing monstrosity that passed for a robot. A thin trickle of blood seeped through her fingers, mingling with the rain, diluting into a spreading pool on the ground. But she could not move him; he was too heavy for her.

And still, the robot lumbered closer.

"Maybe I won't always… Maybe- maybe I'll even forgive you, someday… But I'll never forget, Sonic."

She gave a strangled sob, it sounded louder than it was to her in the darkness. His eyelids fluttered, and he moaned. Pain. Pain for both of them. Pain and scars visible and not, and that she could not let go of.

"I can never forget."

The great hand shot down, and Amy covered Sonic's body with her own.

And then she screamed.

*********************************

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

***********************************

I've decided to move the author-spiel to the end of chapters… That way people can choose to bail out once they're finished.

First off… Before you wander off… I have a request. It's not something I'd usually ask, buuut – could you leave a review? Even if it's just a 'Hey, I like this' I don't mind.

I have no idea how many actually read this fic, and I'm burning with curiosity as the second anniversary is coming up of TLG and I have something planned… But I would like to know how many are interested. I'm guessing there's about nine or ten that read this. But really, I'm not entirely sure….

It's very selfish of me I know – but I'm on a time limit here, and that something special for the anniversary? – I'd like to have an inkling how many would read it…

So, just this once, I'm _asking_ you to leave a review – to let me know you're reading this.

Secondly… I have to apologise for the delay with this. There was University and then there was life, they both decided to catch up with me. But also, I was very peeved at how this chapter was taking shape. It was nothing like how I hope it to be _(In that it sucked so completely it was unpostable_), so I became rather disheartened at it and actually abandoned it for a bit….

Finally after a bit of _incentive (Big thank you to Netraptor for her encouragement with this during my block – or rather- for telling me to 'just do it!'*Huggles NR*)_ I sat down, and discarded what I wrote and redrafted the entire thing from scratch.

It came out a little better the second time. So this is the version posted here.

Thank you to everyone who is actually still reading this, to those who have been since The Last Guardian especially thank you – and thank you for your patience and your encouragement..

If it's an consolation I started the next chapter ages ago, and plan to have it out within two weeks…

Wanna see a teaser? *Grins*

Except 'Winterheart: Chapter 6 - Ghosts'- 

**********

_"-ou all right? Sonic!"_

_The words interrupted the bliss of unconsciousness, and brought with them a reminder and no small amount of pain, so Sonic strove to ignore them just a little longer…_

_Someone shook him. It was rough, Sonic knew his head bounced off the pillow, was surprised at this knowledge, because it would require a certain amount of awareness and it was easier to be unaware… The darkness was easier. Everything was easier than the fact that sometime he would have to-_

_"Wake up! Sonic!"_

_No. NO waking up. Not just yet. And anyway, there was no possibility that the voice he was hearing in concord with the shaking could be who he thought it was. Because the echidna was dead. So, yes, unconsciousness was easier. Sonic did not mind the unconsciousness…_

_Only it seemed the voice's owner did._

_"-have the water running in the next room. If you don't open your eyes in the next ten seconds – because I know you're awake, I will dunk you into it. And keep you there until you do open your eyes…"_

_That did it. There was only one person Sonic knew with the audacity to make a threat like that, and only one that Sonic knew, that he was aware it would be carried through if he did not comply._

_Green eyes opened, blinking in the semi darkness. And trying to focus on something other than the pain pounding and-_

"K-Knuckles?" 

*******

^_______^

Take Care,

Orin. 


	7. Ghosts

Disclaimer: Because I have to. None of the characters therein belong to me, apart from Rowan, she is mine. And Alpha, but she's later. Thing is, these guys belong to Sega.

_Orin_: "I am knackered."

_Sonic_: "Enough so you can never write again? Please?"

_Orin_: *minor glare* "No. Just physically, there's lots of mental angst to be channelled into writing." *pats Sonic on the head* Not to worry."

_Sonic_: ¬__¬ "Who's worried?"

_Knuckles_: "Yup. That's depression. Not worry." *looking at Sonic*

_Orin_: *also looking* "You were at me to finish this!"

_Sonic_: "The key word being 'finish'. I mean _you_ have your holidays now, why can't we?"

_Knuckles_: "We should make a Character Fanfiction Union…"

_Sonic:_ "A what?"

_Knuckles_: -__- "Nevermind…"

_Orin_: "And I'm not on my bloody holidays! I'm working two jobs here, trying to fit commission-paintings in-between and taking care of two horses, one absent boyfriend *pauses to sniffle* I miss him…- and write as well."

_Sonic_: "Then don't write."

_Orin_: *Glaring dangerously*

_Knuckles_: "He means, it's a good thing women are multi-taskers then. That's what he means."

_Sonic_: *has just noticed Orin's Deathglare™, the one that usually pertains to violence* "Yeah, that's what I meant."

_Orin_: ¬___¬

WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.

**Chapter 6**

Ghosts 

_"This prison has now become your home. A sentence you seem prepared to pay. It_ _took a day to build the city. We walked through its streets in the afternoon. As I_ _returned across the lands I'd known, I recognized the fields where I'd once played. I_ _had to stop in my tracks for fear of walking on the mines I'd laid."_

_Fortress Around Your Heart  - Sting._

******************

Darkness was there to greet Sonic when he awoke. He flinched on automatic and then curled into a ball to try and quell the nausea in his stomach. His back hurt, his legs hurt, his head and arms… even his spines seemed to be tingling in pain. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging inside that the simple action caused him.

He wondered if anything was broken…

It took a few moments for Sonic to stretch out, carefully, to avoid any unnecessary pain. A quick check, his mind running on an involuntary process of mental examination – legs, okay. Ribs, okay. Head… not so okay, and it was probably the reason for the sick feeling deep in his gut. Eyes… he blinked in the darkness; could see the suggestion of the faint outline of things in general around the room. Eyes were okay then.

And then he backtracked furiously as he shot up from his position, winced, stifled a cry and stared. The hedgehog blinked frantically against the dimness, wishing, not for the first time, that he could see better in the dark. He pulled a reluctant hand away from where it had been clutching his stomach and reached up to rub his eyes. It was more on reflex than anything else. 

He blinked again, willed his eyes to focus, and then he slumped.

He was in a room. His room… But he had been-

"Crap!"

The hedgehog struggled clumsily out of the bed, every muscle in his body screaming in protest at the hasty movements. His stomach gave a warning lurch but he ignored it. Fumbling as best he could, he found his sneakers and pulled them on, wondering too that there had been someone there to actually remove them-

Tails?

He reached for the light switch, flicked it on, off, on, nothing happened. He frowned. Either the bulb needed replacing or- a power-cut? Still frowning, the hedgehog made stumbling progress out of his room and into the living-room.

Then he stopped. His stomach gave another heave, but with a new kind of nausea. A different kind. He reeled.

His home… His apartment… It was in ruins.

There was what used to be the book cabinet, filled with the books Sonic had never read, scattered across the floor, the massacred books and loose pages strewn in it's wake, like a trail of paper blood. It had always been wooden and worn, but Sonic had dragged it through ten flights of stairs to the street and up his own stairs to get it where it had been. It had taken a day and then some, and it was his. 

The couch was ripped to shreds, the springs and coils of the bare skeleton sticking up through the left over fabric and fluff.  The fabric had been moth-eaten and Sally had called it shoddy when she had visited, but it was the singular most comfortable piece of furniture Sonic had ever owned-

Glass, water, paper, shattered trophies from Sonic's foraging, the book he had been meaning to read someday, that had been on the side-table for the past year or so because he had never quite gotten around to it… 'Intensity' it was called. The paperback was singed beyond recognition, but Sonic recognised it all the same, the wall behind the book was blackened too. Someone had gotten angry. Or impatient.

Splintered wood, the fragments of what had been chairs… Sonic's compact-discs, his personal stereo system, a gift from his friends... Sonic froze - Felt his legs give, in a combination of sudden weakness and shock. He landed on his tail with a dull thump. And again, Sonic was reduced to the simple act of staring, mouth slightly open.

Knuckles the Echidna stared back at him.

Completely nonplussed.

The echidna stood smoothly from where he had been seated. Sonic noted idly that he had been fixing up some of the area around – what once had been – the living room table. Large hands brushed to get rid of excess dust and it rose in a little cloud as Knuckles moved forward past an armchair – also in bits. The echidna seemed to note Sonic's staring and cast a rueful glance around the shattered apartment.

"You're a messy housekeeper, hedgehog," was what he said.

Sonic's mouth was still agape. "You…" he tried, but it was about as far as he could get.

Knuckles lifted an eyeridge. But when Sonic did not continue, the echidna seemed to take his silence for wordless anger.

"If you're wondering, this was not my doing…" Knuckles spread his arms in supplication. "It looks like Robotnik came calling… And that you were not home."

He reached down to pick up what had been a fragmented piece of seashell. Then he shook his head. "It's a shame," he said. "I remember this place… It was nice here."

Sonic just continued to stare until finally even Knuckles' air held a hint of impatience to it. 

"Sonic?"

No answer of course. Because Sonic was torn between righteous anger at the state of his home and complete befuddlement that Knuckles the Echidna was apparently standing in the midst of that wreckage. And that he was talking to Sonic about the state of his housekeeping when in fact, he should be dead. Talking as though he had not died, as though it were an everyday subject he was speaking of – like the weather – and that he spoke to Sonic over an everyday occurrence, like breakfast…

And. He should be dead…

The echidna had tilted his head to look down to where Sonic was still staring. His eyeridges were still raised, but there seemed to be more caution to him than impatience at Sonic's continued stillness. He was getting faintly worried. Subtly, the hedgehog saw a frown cross his face. He looked away again.

"You were hurt out there, not too much. But I imagine you have something of a headache." Again, the echidna had a knack for making the comment sound offhand. 

But Sonic's silence had coalesced into something else, his breath skipped and suddenly Knuckles took a step back as the hedgehog scrabbled to his feet, in a renewed bout of panic.

"Amy," he gasped, wincing, clutching his stomach and lurching into unsteady motion all in one. And all while still trying to comprehend the fact that Knuckles was a mere meter away and staring at him in slight alarm. His breath stung somewhere inside still, perhaps he had pulled something after all. He struggled a few unsteady steps and the world tilted dangerously.

"Damnit!" Sonic stopped and was forced to lean against the wall for support. It was that or be forced to either tip over or throw up. His fist shot out and impacted with the wall in a flash of useless anger. Then Sonic panted lightly at the effort the combination of moves had caused him. 

"Hedgehog?" Knuckles' voice was quiet.

Blearily, Sonic looked up at him.

Knuckles just looked right back and Sonic felt something strange twist in his gut. For a moment, he thought he was going to throw up, so he averted his head quickly.

Knuckles, he was… And Sonic's place would never be the same; Robotnik had invaded his home – and Amy! 

Oh, God… If she was – he couldn't save her when she needed him – just like Knuckles, even though the echidna seemed to be fine. But he should not have been, and Sonic had to tell Sally, the Princess would be overjoyed, everyone would be. Especially Tails. No more guilt, but _they_ had not let Amy be captured. And by Robotnik, again. And his home… And Knuckles just standing there as though-

Sonic moaned. Everything was happening all at once, and things that should not be possible, were. His home was the one place of escape… how could he ever live there again, knowing Robotnik had violated that sanctity?

And… He clutched his head. 

And the echidna who had died nearly a year ago was not dead, or just a ghost. And all those times Sonic had imagined seeing the echidna, did that mean that he had been seeing Knuckles? That it was a ghost back to haunt him? He had good reason to… 

The hedgehog slid down against the wall, head still clutched tightly between his hands. Everything was spinning. He closed his eyes at the sight of Knuckles darting forward, worry on his face-

But why should he be worried? He was there to haunt Sonic after all, and it was a good idea… Knuckles had wanted vengeance for the pain Sonic had caused him…

The world began to dim; faintly he felt hands grab him around his shoulders…

After all, what better revenge could Knuckles have hoped for than to let Sonic live with the weight of his death?

Oblivion claimed him.

*********

Amy had no idea how long she laid there, biting her lips and trying not to sob. Failing of course. She had always been one for crying, at absurd moments for the littlest things, the tears would come. She could not help it. 

She was alone.

She had spent a time clawing at the walls of her prison – if she could call it that. She had pounded and raged and screamed her anger and indignation at unhearing unyielding walls of pure bright metal. Cold. Hard. Until she had exhausted herself and her fists were numb and her legs weak. Then she had stopped. Completely stilled, frozen in mid bearing, because there in the metal that was her prison, an image stared back at her.

She had caught a sight of herself in the bright metal. Somewhat distorted by shape and texture. Tearstains, and torn clothes, spines frayed and messy. She was a mess, and the distortion did not beautify her in any way. But still through that distortion, she could see a measure of the fatigue in the lady staring back at her; her eyes were deep azure pools of inertia. And Amy had stared at herself, long and hard. There had been a time when she had liked what she saw, who she saw. That time had passed.

It was long passed.

And then she had screamed some more, at the futility of it all, at Sonic and her reasons for hating him – loving him – it was all relative. At Robotnik, for being the fanatical, manic, petty person he was, unable to yield to a grudge, holding it to him until it consumed… just like her.

And then, when she could not scream any more, she had fumbled her way over to the bed, and collapsed. She had been asleep even before her head had hit the pillow.

It was only on waking, that the pink hedgehog had gotten some measure of control again. Her nerves were tattered and frayed, and she was as close to breaking as she ever had been. Consumed by worry. 

Sonic could be dead. And she had no way of knowing….

She had seen his body on the ground; the cold, wet cement, and it had been the last thing she had seen before she had awoken in her prison. He had not moved at her screams, not even a flutter of those eyes. Sonic had always answered her calls in the past…

So, Amy worried.

But, seeking not to let the worry rule her, she had gotten to her feet, and examined her surroundings, as she had been taught by Sonic when she was younger. Know your prison, your environment- wherever it is. If need be, know how to use it against your enemies. Always. There were so many lessons he had taught her. Some painful, many not. And certainly, some of them were very useful.

That was how the pink hedgehog found herself roaming about her prison, seeking methodically for escape, taking note of areas that looked interesting, unusual. Trying to remain calm in the face of her captivity, trying to be objective and… like… Sonic.

The last part did not bother Amy as much as it should have.

After some thought, she had to admit, it was the strangest cell she had ever encountered. For one thing, it seemed to be many times the size of any other prison she had been in of Robotnik's design. In fact, it was huge. The entire confinement was made of sheer metal, and she was at its pinnacle. Her room was unlocked, and that was the first bizarre oddity to her imprisonment. There was a large metal balcony beyond it, and it led down some more metal stairs to a lower gallery – one that overlooked… nothing…

Just nothing. A pure deep cavernous space of emptiness… Amy had never seen such never-ending blackness. She had wanted to take something and drop it down to see when it landed, but she did not have the courage. Because she had a feeling that she would never hear that resounding echo. 

And it was strange too, that she had plenty of available objects to drop. Her cell was furnished, albeit meagrely. But there was an adjoining kitchen and bathroom. She could obtain water at will, and there was enough food to last her at least a week, provided she ration the supplies out somewhat. It was that oddity that confused Amy most of all. Why would Robotnik put her in a place like that?

Alone…

No matter how many times she deviated from that line of thinking, Amy always found herself drawing back to it, against her will. The size and starkness of her cell was only made more apparent by the fact that she was completely alone. She had awoken alone, and with no idea to Robotnik's purpose on her capture. It was the unusual state of her prison that told Amy that it was something particular though, not just a random plan to infuriate Sonic – and the madman had the opportunity to kill Sonic, but he had not. 

And that Sonic was alive, it was perhaps the only fact that kept Amy sane. She felt bitterness at first, when she realised it, but then the bitterness had faded amongst the shadows of worry. The truth was, she did not know if he was alive. But she avoided thinking about that. Amy refused to believe Sonic was anything other than alive, and on his way to help her…

Because… he was the only one who could. Sonic was the only one who would.

That was how Amy found herself shivering and alone on her bed, squeezing her eyes and fists against the barrage of tears that threatened to consume her. Crying was useless. Tears did not make any of her uncertainties coalesce into fact undeniable. 

Even when she was racked by the Sight, Amy knew, for the first time in years, that it could lie too. She had not seen Sonic get hurt – not ever. Until now. She brought the images the bombarded her minds-eye as nothing more than worries brought to life by the sight of Sonic on the pavement, as she was taken away.

Nothing more… 

But even behind closed eyes, the blood thudded so hard in her veins that Sonic's image had trembled before her. She was swept away by a certainty that in two seconds the world was about to end, and that her stupidity has caused it to happen.

And that Sonic would drown. 

_"It's dark…"_

_" I know, Sonic. Hold on!"_

There was water, rain. Screaming in the wind – but that had already happened. And-

Robotnik's voice echoed in her mind, cold and toneless, uncharacteristic of him even through all his heartlessness.

"_No_. _I've done this before, and this time around, I'll not pull him for capture…"_

Amy squeezed harder. It had happened, then why was she seeing it so late – had it happened?

"Let him drown."

No. No it had not.

No. No! Think of something else… Something- anything else. Think of… not the pain. Think of... something- something else. The Island. In the sky. Think of the Island… 

But the Island was gone. It was sitting cracked and broken in the bottom of the ocean-

Everything was different for him. Now. He could never be as he once was… Knuckles was changed, beyond belief, beyond return. Amy felt the tears flow, for him. She cried for him too, as she cried for Sonic.

"Corpses can't own… Not anything."  A scarlet echidna scarred and alone, fur velvet soft with wetness and almost black in the firelight. A Guardian, wiping blood from a face with hands already stained beyond belief.

And looking satisfied…

Amy wanted to scream. It was why she hated being alone, more than anything else. Alone and afraid meant the dreams came. Sometimes even with waking eyes she could see. And she did not want to. All she saw was grief, and hurt and fire and screaming and death…

"You'll die too!"

And fury… And violet eyes meeting blackness unflinchlingly-

"I'm already dead."

And brutal, honest pain.

But.

"Sometimes," Amy whispered suddenly, her voice so quiet it left no echo in her cell. "Sometimes, it's the only thing telling you that you're alive."

_"What is?"_

She unclenched her fists, pulled herself into a sitting position and lifted her gaze to the ceiling, imagining she saw stars there amongst the screws and panels of sharp steel.

She knew what was coming, and it hurt.

"The pain," came her answer to the whispered future of her mind. Answering herself. Using his words.

She hoped he was all right…

*****

"-ou all right? Sonic!"

The words interrupted the bliss of unconsciousness, and brought with them a reminder and no small amount of pain, so Sonic strove to ignore them just a little longer…

Someone shook him. It was rough, Sonic knew his head bounced off the pillow, was surprised at this knowledge, because it would require a certain amount of awareness and it was easier to be unaware… The darkness was easier. Everything was easier than the fact that sometime he would have to-

"Wake up! Sonic!"

No. NO waking up. Not just yet. And anyway, there was no possibility that the voice he was hearing in concord with the shaking could be who he thought it was. Because _he was dead. So, unconsciousness was easier. Sonic did not mind the unconsciousness…_

Only it seemed the voice's owner did. 

 "-have the water running in the next room." Sonic strove to concentrate, to listen, because there was an edge to that voice that he knew instinctively should not be ignored. 

"If you don't open your eyes in the next ten seconds – because I know you're awake- I will dunk you into it. And keep you there until you _do_ open your eyes…"

That did it. There was only one person Sonic knew with the audacity to make a threat like that, and only one that Sonic knew enough about that he was aware it would be carried through if he did not comply.

Green eyes opened, blinking in the semi darkness – it was getting dark? And trying to focus on something other than the pain pounding and-

"K-Knuckles?"

The trembling in the voice that met his ears shocked him. Was that his voice? It sounded so very unsteady.

It was then that it hit him, and it hit him with all the impact of a speeding train. Really hit him. All over again and Sonic scrambled back on the bed in alarm, heart pumping. Scrambled back so far that he encountered space behind and fell to the ground again with another dull thump. And kept on scrambling.

Knuckles' head reappeared over him again, but the concern had been replaced by something all together more indecipherable. The echidna was frowning.

"Sonic…"

Because it had finally hit him – "Knuckles- Oh God- Oh crap."

The echidna's earlier congeniality had disappeared; he did not smile his time at Sonic's predicament. Instead, his look coalesced into something more urgent.

"Sonic, you need to listen."

But Sonic was still rather disorientated because all he as coming out with still was – "Oh God." And Knuckles was frowning more at him and his frown was growing darker and darker as the seconds and Sonic inability to sound rational ticked by.  

"Oh cra-"

"Sonic!"

The hedgehog shook his head frantically. Eyes wide and staring. Staring at Knuckles. Pointing. Accusing.

"No! You're dead- I saw- I mean I never saw but everyone said and – You- You're dead!"

Knuckles' look softened somewhat. Sonic was shivering faintly. 

"Do I look dead to you?"

"No!"  Sonic's headshake bordered on hysterical and so did his voice. He scrabbled back a little further until his back spines encountered solid wall, and he was forced to stop. He did not mind though, solid wall was good, solid wall was real, it told him the whatever happened, that much was certain, he was not dead himself… Which was something he could not say for Knuckles.

Because Knuckles was dead, though he did not look it. Sonic knew he was, he had to be. Sally had told him so, Tails had told him so…and there was even a tombstone erected in his memory. Everyone knew that tombstones were only for the dead.

But he really did not look dead.

"No! And that's the problem! Because you are and everyone said, an it's been months and nobody's seen you, an' Sal said that if you were alive then you would've at least-"

"Sonic." The hedgehog blinked up at Knuckles, or rather at the sharpness of his tone. He stilled as Knuckles went on with, "You're babbling."

For a swift instant Sonic managed to look indignant. He glared. "I'm- Of course I am! I'm sitting here on the ground in my room talking to the ghost of one of my best friends!"

Knuckles looked briefly interested, he canted his head down at the scowling hedgehog. "Best friend?"

Sonic glowered at him flatly. "You're dead."

The echidna's affable expression melted into a relenting sigh. "I thought we had established, I'm not."

But his companion had been shaking his head before Knuckles had even finished his line.

"Nuh-uh," Sonic pointed at the echidna accusingly.  "You. Are. Dead." He punctuated each word with a vicious jab of his finger. But he hardly expected Knuckles to reach down and grab that accusing hand in a firm, very solid- very real grip. Sonic flinched visibly and tried to pull back. "Ack! No! Leggo!"

Knuckles only looked at him pointedly, "Does this feel dead to you?"

"No! No!" Sonic jerked his arm again, against that grip and the subtle heat that leeched through Knuckles' glove, and it was heat. And the faint beat of a pulse. Knuckles was warm, and his hand was gripping Sonic's, and so it was solid. And solid was real…

Alive.

And then suddenly Sonic's struggling floundered, and like a fish out of water, he found himself gaping, and slamming on all his mental brakes, "No…Wait- It- it feels…."

"Alive?" Knuckles quirked an eyeridge, looked a little condescendingly at Sonic. His hand still gripping. "It's because I am. As alive as you."

The echidna squeezed Sonic's hand tightly then, just enough for the hedgehog to feel the pinch of the old strength he knew that Knuckles possessed. Sonic stilled, he looked up, blinked and met the cool darkened violet that he had only seen in his dreams – nightmares – since that day. The hedgehog stared a little longer, dared squeeze back.

"Red?" It was a hushed whisper, and torn somewhere between desperation and hope, and latching onto neither because both would hurt.

"Yes, Sonic," Knuckles' voice was overly patient. Gently though, he extrapolated his hand from Sonic's grip – which had tightened considerably upon discovering that Knuckles was in fact, very solid.

Sonic was still staring at him. "Oh… God," he said very quietly. "I need-I need… to sit down."

Knuckles blinked at him.  "You _are_ sitting," he pointed out.

Sonic never moved his gaze from Knuckles' face, even as he nodded his agreement, and said absentmindedly, "I know… But it seemed like the thing to say." 

That got a smile from Knuckles, albeit it was very small. 

"You'd think with all the weirdness in my life, I'd be able to cope better," the hedgehog muttered, still staring openly at the Knuckles. The echidna merely shrugged, watching Sonic as though he expected the hedgehog to faint again. 

"So…" Sonic stared, numbly, and because nothing else came to mind, "What's up?"

*****

"So, you think she's at this base?"

"Yes."

"And that's why you're here?"

"Yes."

"To help me?"

"Yes."

"This base in the middle on the ocean?"

"No. Just a few miles out."

"Oh. Right."

Silence. Sonic looked at the echidna sitting across from him in the reconstructed chair that still looked so beaten it was a wonder it was holding together at all. The hedgehog blinked at Knuckles, studying the map on the just-as-beaten table. Knuckles remained focused. Sonic blinked again.

"You're dead. You know that?"

The echidna managed faint amusement at Sonic's deadpan expression. "Apparently I missed the memo," he murmured without undue drollness. He did not look up.

"At least, you're supposed to be. According to everyone else." Sonic studied the map himself, from a distance though, he leaned against the remains of the couch, with one battered pillow scrunched against his side another beneath him. There was a piece of the cabinet holding the couch upright. Half of it was missing.

"This majority doesn't include you?"  It sounded absentminded, but Sonic caught the flicker of violet, and knew Knuckles was not as uninterested as he seemed. Sonic shrugged.

"Never has, Red. One in a million, remember?"

Knuckles shook his head. But Sonic went on, trying to be cavalier and not quite managing to pull to the cover up.  "And I've always been a sucker for denial."

"Sally calls it 'perseverance'." Knuckles pointed out. Because Sonic's words were so self-depreciating, that Knuckles had to counteract. Sonic was not self-castigating. He had never been. 

"Yeah well, Sally thinks you're dead," was the flat reply.

"We all make mistakes." The echidna pulled the map from the table and frowned at something, tilted his head.

Silence.

"So… You're really not dead."

Knuckles put down the map and threw Sonic a look. "No. I'm really not."

And despite his firmness, Sonic caught the distinct impression that Knuckles was fighting laughter.

"Hm. That's good I guess."

Knuckles looked impeccably curious. "You '_guess_'."

"Poll's still out on whether or not this is all one massive hallucination." Sonic shrugged. "I'll keep you posted on the results."

"Of course." The echidna was not-quite smiling, but was not-quite not either. He looked trapped somewhere in-between.

"So… What've you been up to? Y'know, while being 'not-dead'." Though Sonic's voice was flip, his eyes had taken on a distinctive icy edge. "For the last ten months?"

He studied the tabletop idly, the cracks where the glass had been chipped. It was irreparable. Everything in his apartment was beyond repair...

"Sonic-"

"No, really." Sonic leaned forward, still not looking up. His eyes were narrowed and for the first time, he looked angry. A gloved finger traced one of the more prominent cracks. "D'you know, you had this colossal funeral. And there was crying, lots of that. And everybody went- well, except me, 'cause, you know. I'm denial-guy." He looked up. Met Knuckles' startlement.  "Or, maybe the only one who actually believed you were not dead-"

"Trying to find my way here." Knuckles answered softly, openly. Sonic stilled, a deer caught in the headlights of a sudden revelation. Knuckles went back to studying the map.

Sonic was left blinking.

"Oh."

Silence.

Sonic found himself glancing around his apartment, trying to stifle the acrimony. Everything was ruined. He wondered if Robotnik had come himself, to oversee the destruction of Sonic's home. It was a perversity that Sonic would not put past the human. The thought of Robotnik in his room, rifling through his possessions- it made Sonic want to gag.

He growled instead, and his hand tightened on the edge of the table. There was the faint sound of cracking glass. 

"Relax," he heard Knuckles say quietly, and blinked up.

Knuckles was watching him with dark eyes. And Sonic blinked again, fighting away the wonder and replacing it with the much more accepted scepticism. Knuckles tilted his head in askance, to which the Sonic shrugged. 

"So…. You seem to know an awful lot about where Amy is… And this base."

The echidna's mouth quirked strangely. "The Doctor asked me to run over certain schematics… last year. In Robotropolis. I came across his operations too."

Understanding dawned on Sonic. He closed his eyes briefly. "Ah," he said.

More silence.

A sound from Sonic had Knuckles looking at him again. It sounded almost like a chuckle, but it was not, there was no humour to it. "Being your thorough-self, you decided to do a little research." Sonic guessed softly.

The echidna met his glance. Nodded.

Sonic leaned back and blinked slowly, his eyes fixed on the map on the broken table. Tapping his finger against his knee, he asked, "Did you ever trust him? At all?"

"Did you?" Knuckles retorted bluntly. And Sonic eyes flickered to the scar on Knuckles cheek. It was healed, almost. More than Sonic's was. That was impossible, because Knuckles had acquired his own scar nearly two months after Sonic had been given his- it was impossible. But then, so was Knuckles.

"Why did you stick with him then?" And Sonic knew it was past, and should be left alone, and he wanted to. But he wanted to know more. He needed-

"He was a means to an end," Knuckles said shortly, and stood.  His demeanour was vaguely curt as he paced away from Sonic and the map, jaw hard, fists clenched. Sonic saw, and made note. There was an another one of those extended silences as Sonic studied Knuckles, and Knuckles let him look. The echidna was different. There were qualities there, that had never been before, that looked as though they had been sculpted from pain and suffering. And anger.

Knuckles had always hidden things, it was almost what Sonic had come to expect over time. And the only conclusion that Sonic could draw from his open air was that either he had discarded the habit of masking his expression, or he simply could not do so any longer.

Neither conclusion reassured Sonic. They both meant something had changed.

The hedgehog took a breath. He did not need to ask what those ends were. He had his scar after all. He nodded instead. "Right." Still watching Knuckles, whose eyes searched out the window for such a long moment that the hedgehog grew impatient. 

"You should sleep tonight. While you can." Violet eyes were still fixed on something outside. Away from Sonic.

Sonic leaned forward and studied the map once more, a little futilely, since there was little it could tell him that he had not already committed to memory. He tried to quell the ire.  Bit his lip and told himself to count to ten and take a breath, because an argument was exactly what he did not want, could not afford. But there was still Amy. Quietly, intensely, "I'm not that tired, Red-"

Knuckles' interruption was immediate. Timed with the sense of prefect flawlessness only he could pull off. "No. But we'll need light." He looked away from the window to Sonic, because the hedgehog looked ready for an argument despite his reservations.

"We're wasting time," Sonic pointed out, his voice clipped. Counting to ten had never helped…

"We have time." Knuckles was just as forward, just as terse. The echidna had abandoned the careful blank slate of expression he seemed set on fostering, despite his inability to. He was as cold as ice as he looked at Sonic. His gaze had the knife-sharpness of the most honed blade. 

Sonic frowned, folded his hands under his chin, braced on them and studied Knuckles dubiously. Knuckles' only looked back, face carefully blank once more. The ice had passed. But there was a shadow in its wake. And Sonic shrugged. He knew the stubbornness there; it was the same part that had threatened to hold Sonic underwater until he opened his eyes. The same part that was willing to work with a man he did not trust in order to kill Sonic.

A means to an end.

"Fine," Sonic muttered. He gathered up the map and folded it as Knuckles watched him with muted surprise. Then, "And don't look at me like that." Sonic shot the echidna an emerald glare, simply because Knuckles looked so surprised at his show of reasonability. 

Knuckles masked his surprise expertly. It was as though it had never been. "Like what?" As innocent as a newborn.

Sonic fought the reflexive scowl. Shot Knuckles a half-glare, and said, "Get lost then. I need my beauty sleep." And wondered that he could do it. Just like how he used to.

Knuckles was really, real. He was there. And Sonic could argue and glare, and the echidna could argue back… And it hit Sonic then, and the hedgehog had to fight the impulsive grin at Knuckles' smirk.

"I'm afraid sleep won't help you in that department."

Sonic flipped him off with a head-tilt.

Knuckles chuckled. "But I'll be back at dawn."

A nod from the cobalt hedgehog, who was still fighting his own smile. "I'll be ready"

And when Sonic blinked, Knuckles was gone. There was just the empty space behind the battered tabletop where the echidna had stood. His eyes narrowed and for a moment Sonic made no move at all.

"That's new…" he murmured then. The last traces of his smile faded from mind and face. And then Sonic sat; so still, the beginnings of a headache clinging to his temples. Alone. He sat, in the semi-darkness of his broken apartment, the streetlights offering up enough meagre light for him to read by, but not enough for provide the illusion of safety. His home…

The length of time Sonic sat there seemed immeasurable, as his mind raced, staring idly ahead at cracked walls with eyes that did not really see. The cold air coming from the crack in the window chilled him through his fur, reminding the hedgehog for an instant how vast and empty the night really was. That his home had been wrecked. Making him wonder.

He had promised Knuckles he would wait, all the while getting rid of the echidna so that he would not have to. He had promised Amy he would keep her alive. Safe. He had promised himself that he was done running…

He had forgotten to ask Knuckles how the echidna had found him. But had the suspicion too that Knuckles would not be forthcoming with any direct answer. The echidna was like that.

It was not so long ago that things were normal. As normal as they had ever been for Sonic. Everything had been so clear-cut. Fight Robotnik, argue with Knuckles, pal around with Tails, tease Sally. And live. Sonic had a rhythm to things. To life.

Now.

And as though Knuckles had never cautioned him, the hedgehog stood and regarded the folded map again.

A beat. A smirk. It was only slightly bitter. "I suck at waiting."

With a blast of defiance and speed, Sonic raced out of the apartment, the chaos in his wake a material testament to the conflict within. Trees, apartments, streets and streetlights flew past in a dizzying blur as Sonic raced to the pier, and the sea. And the base. 

"Sorry, Red," he whispered ruefully to the rushing air. "I'm ready now."

Because Amy needed his help… And in the end, it was all about living.

*********************

TO BE CONTINUED… 

********************

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this fic in the past, for reviewing, sometimes, authors hit a black-spot, and let me tell you, those reviews help. A lot. I sat here last night and read over every single review for Winterheart, and though there are too many to thank singularly, hugs to all.

It really can make a difference…

Anyway, I found some old notes on this chapter, and so if it seems rather fragmented, then I apologise. There has been a lot cut from the Sonic and Knuckles reunion scene, and maybe some would have liked to read it, but the fact remains, sometimes parts need to be cut. 

I hate editing my stuff, I think we all do to an extent, but that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Edited this today, tidied it up (hopefully enough) for posting…

_Sonic:_ "That chapter was wired."

_Knuckles:_ "Don't you mean weird?"

_Sonic_: "Stupid typos."

_Orin_: "Bane of my existence too, don't worry."

_Sonic_: "I thought we were the bane of your existence, y'know, the unflagging motivation that keeps your mind awake on late nights when it should be sleeping, and that has you writing notes at work on little post-it things when you should be taking a break…"

_Orin_: O__O

_Knuckles:_ "He's so wired."

_Orin_: "Don't you mean weird?"

_Knuckles_: "I don't make typos, I meant wired."

_Soni_c: "Oooon a completely unrelated note, you could have edited out more in this."

_Orin_: "As in all of it?"

Sonic: "Heh. How'd you know?"

_Orin_: ¬__¬ "Oh, call it a guess."

Knuckles is back! Wheee! And because I'm still feeling needy… Review? Please?

Take Care,

Orin.


End file.
